#not much symbolism except there is no longer a struggle to be a monster

[eisenartworks]

black tears

[secret-engima]

*kicks down door* WHO WANTS TO READ ME RAMBLE/RANT ABOUT THE GRALEA LEVEL IN FFXV AND WHY IT ACTUALLY WAS A GOOD LEVEL AND EVERYONE SHOULD PLAY THE NOCTIS ROUTE AT LEAST ONCE RATHER THAN THE GLADIO ROUTE EVEN THOUGH IT’S TERRIFYING AND FRUSTRATING.

No one?

WELL TOO BAD.

(Unless you haven’t played or watched the game yet and don’t want spoilers in which case TURN AWAY NOW).

...Ahem. *deep breath* Okay so I will forever stand by my opinion that chapter 13 of the game (the one that takes place on the train and then in Gralea) is Good™ and does exactly what it's supposed to in the narrative. That is not to say I don't hate it with a passion and didn't cheer when they added the Gladiolus route for those of us (like me) who didn't want to replay the Noctis route again, but I will stubbornly insist to anyone that wants to listen that the chapter's difficulty and wildly different tone and pacing was THE POINT of the darn thing and deserves some respect for it.

See, the game up to that point is, if not always lighthearted (because it's not), has still been something of an Adventure Story™. Yes there's horrible tragic things like Insomnia falling and Regis dying, but for the most part the gameplay is exploration and cool combat mechanics and the relationship between the four brothers. It's ... happy for a good chunk of it. There's this light at the end of the tunnel, this comfy assurance that there can be a happy ending, that this can all be fixed and tied up in a neat little bow somehow.

Then Altissia happens. Luna dies, Ignis is blinded, and the game puts you on literal rails, forcing you to go hurtling toward A Different Tone. Everyone is stressed, everyone is scared or angry. You’d THINK that this is the lowest point of the story and that surely there’s going to be an emotional reconciliation between Noctis and Gladio and then we’ll get back to exploring and saving the world and all that jazz.

Except we don’t.

The train scene with Ardyn and Shiva happens, and the entire heartbreak with Prompto happens, and that’s when things start to seriously crack. You lose all access to your magic while stuck in this narrow train, then you lose the Regalia, your symbol of freedom, your main way to travel through the game (even when you fast travel, the animation of arrival shows you getting out of the Regalia). You are now trapped in Gralea. In dark, hostile territory with one of your party missing, one of them blind, the other angry at you, and still no magic. Then a few minutes later you are forcibly separated from the rest of your party, the characters you’ve spent all game getting attached to, and leaning on, and laughing with. They are your last anchor points to the brother dynamic that has kept the whole game on a lighter note and now they are GONE. You have none of your weapons or skills, you have no idea where the others are (first time playing the game without spoilers anyway), you have NOTHING. No hope. No backup. No distractions from the fact that, oh yeah, this is a story where the Bad. Guys. Win. Are winning, have won, and all Noctis (all you) can do is take out the Ring that slowly killed Regis, that Luna died for, the thing that represents everything going wrong and all NOCTIS must do to fix it even when he is painfully, woefully unprepared ... and finally put it on. 

Noctis (and by extension you, the player) MUST shoulder the responsibility of being the king of a lost kingdom, of acknowledging that he IS the king, his dad was MURDERED, and Luna was killed for the thing you are now wearing and everything it means. It’s your only option until you eventually find the dead Ravus and take back Regis’s sword toward the middle/end of the level, which you can’t use recklessly because every swing drains your very life-force, forcing the Ring to still be your “best” option in many cases.

Most of that level is spent running, and hiding, and praying that the MT Units on the floor don’t leap up and try to murder you, or that the daemons don’t notice you, or that the teleporting daemon doesn’t find you, or that Ardyn will just SHUT UP because his taunts are really unhelpful right now.

The only hope you have left in this level is to grit your teeth and get through it with the Ring until you can reunite with your brothers and get magic back and go get the Crystal, the mcguffin of this whole game, and put the game back on the normal track of brotherly dynamics and fun quests. Just get to the Crystal, and everything will somehow start going back to normal.

And then that turns out to be a trap too.

Welcome to the final act of a tragedy, and your character is the one living through it. There will be no restoration of the norm until you’ve seen this to its final conclusion. There will be no light save for the one Noctis dies for.

Even when I first played that level (vanilla, not even a day one patch version btw because I was an idiot like that) and hated it because it was terrifying, I never thought it didn't belong in the story like ... quite a few comments I saw on the internet later insisted it didn’t. This is Noctis's story. This is Noctis's tragedy. THIS is the level that strips every last distraction and security blanket and shelter away from him and makes him put on the Ring and thus shoulder everything it represents. There is- terror here, there is trauma, there is GRIEF. This is practically Noctis's headspace without his brothers, because let's not forget that while we the players are having fun fishing and catching frogs for a silly scientist lady, Noctis is a refugee from an empire that MURDERED HIS FATHER and the FATHER OF HIS SHIELD-BROTHER, destroyed his HOME and then, right before Gralea, murdered Luna, the girl who he's known and talked to and confided in via letter for twelve years. This is a world falling into literal darkness (and if the player hadn’t noticed how the daytime cycle in the game kept getting shorter and shorter before this point YOU CERTAINLY NOTICE NOW) and it's up to Noctis- JUST Noctis, ONLY NOCTIS thanks to a Prophecy made long before he was ever born, to somehow Fix It™.

One person. Just one.

And he has to fix ... all of this.

How?

He doesn’t know. During the Gralea level he DOESN’T KNOW. All he (all we) know is that the Crystal is the key, but since the Crystal only answers to Lucis Caelums, that means Noctis is the key, and Noctis (and you the player) is painfully aware of how Not Ready he is.

And the weight of that is enough to render you helpless in the face of it. The fear of that is a maze. The terror of it is a monster following you down the halls that you cannot escape from and cannot kill while it laughs at your misery.

All of that is GRALEA. The capital city of the people who overthrew his home, killed his father, killed his fiancé, and isolated him from the last safety nets he had.

The entirety of chapter 13 isn’t meant to be enjoyed. It’s meant to make you scared. It’s meant to frustrate you and make you feel helpless. It’s meant to make you feel sick when you learn what the daemons and MTs you’ve been killing really are. It’s meant to make you RAGE against Ardyn, and the Empire, and this entire situation because you’re one person and you’re not prepared for this and it’s NOT FAIR and you just want things to go BACK TO THE WAY IT WAS AND ALL OF THIS SUCKS.

Yeah. It does.

And who else do you think feels like that?

Noctis.

Chapter 13 isn’t meant to be fun. It’s meant to make you feel like Noctis does.

And what emotions would you expect from someone who has just lost everything and is expected to fix everything for everyone else, and now has no distractions or shields between him and his grief?

I remember reading an article about “why this chapter failed” and it was basically to the order of “this game is about a fun road trip with your bros and reuniting with your fiancé and chapter 13 breaks away from that too hard” and I respectfully have to disagree.

This story isn’t about a “fun road trip” and it isn’t just about “reuniting with your fiancé”. From the very first cutscene we are told that it’s not in Regis’s desperate (and soon revealed as last) words to his son about setting forth on a journey and not being able to go back. We are told it’s not in the first hour or so when Insomnia burns and Noctis cries and Cor tells us that “in his last moments together he didn’t want to be your king, he wanted to be your father”. How is that a “fun story about a road trip?”. Yes the road trip IS fun for us, and it IS about the brother relationship, but in a large, LARGE part-

Final Fantasy XV is about a young man setting out into the world and facing the hardships of it. It’s about loss. It’s about regrets. It’s about how no matter how much you want them to, some things can never go back to the way they were yet you must keep going anyway. It’s about how the darkness of the world will just keep taking-taking-taking until someone is willing to pay the price to make it stop, and that sometimes a happy ending for the people you love most means giving up your own personal happy ending on their behalf.

Final Fantasy XV never really hid the fact that it was a tragic, bittersweet story.

But it’s in chapter 13 that the story refuses to let you mistake it for anything else any longer.

Could the chapter have been structured a little better so that the gameplay itself wasn’t so frustrating? Probably. I know almost nothing about game design so that’s not really my call. But does the chapter, for all its frustration and anger-inducing inversion of pacing and tone, brutally get the point across?

Maybe it’s just my opinion, but I’d say yes. Yes it does. Because this video game was the one that fully 100% convinced me, in a way that no other video game had before, that the platform could tell heart wrenching stories, could give me characters I would care for, cry over, rage on the behalf of.

And a big part of that clicked for me at the ending, but it likely wouldn’t have if I hadn’t first struggled my way through chapter 13 and all the emotions it causes and represents just like Noctis did.

...

There. I’m done. Thanks for reading my long-suppressed rant on the most hated chapter of FFXV.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Creatures in the dark Part 2

Pairing: witch!Steve x Reader

Warning: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, allusion to non-con.

Words: 2454.

Summary: A monster dressed in human flesh was waiting for you in the woods.

Part 1

____________

That night neither your grandfather nor you returned to your beds. Despite being afraid of revealing your secret, you told him everything: about the Plague and your encounter with the dead and the boy with a lantern who you thought came to save you. Your grandfather, and old, but tough man, had cried upon hearing your story, and you cried too. You didn't remember him dropping a single tear when his wife or grandson had died, but now his face was all wet.

Once the first ray of sun reached your house through the crack in a wooden shutter, the old man rushed to the witch living in a hut at the end of the village while you stayed home, putting more ash to the door. You didn't know whether the monster lurking in the woods could walk in the daylight, but you didn't want to risk it. Maybe he wasn't as powerful as the Plague if her mark prevented him from casting a spell on you, yet he was obviously strong enough to tear a human being apart.

You had no idea how much time you spent there all alone, praying in the corner, but your grandfather returned with both the witch and one of the elders, all of them with grim expression on their dirty faces.

"Not good, not good." The old woman whose grey hair were covered with a bleak blue scarf told you, spinning around you and shaking her head. "Not good at all."

"What's not good, granny Iva?" You asked, calling her the same way you did when you were a little girl. "What do you see?"

"The blessing of the Rotten One does no harm to you, dearest child, but she gave it to you for a reason. The boy you saw was no boy at all. His scent is all over you." Her quiet raspy voice sounded like a thunder to you.

"We'll wash it off!" Your grandfather exclaimed in despair. "I'll bring water and wood to the bathhouse-"

"Silly man, no water can help you wash it off her." The elder said in return, stepping closer and looking at your forehead suspiciously. "What's already done can't be reversed now. Besides, if the Plague herself had told you it's your fate to meet the monster in the woods, we mortals can do little about it."

"But he'll take me away. He will drag me out of the house and eat me alive!"

"No, my dear. That horned monster doesn't eat human flesh. He came to claim you." The old witch whispered, taking the red like blood beads out of her pocket. "To wed you, whether you come willingly or not."

Horrified with the revelation, you felt hot tears falling down your cheeks, and your grandfather quickly embraced you, dropping a kiss to your forehead. Looking at the two angrily, he shouted, "I'll better die than give her to that creature."

"Whether you want it or not, there's not much we can help her with." The witch bit her dry, chapped lips. "My magic has never been as strong as his even when I was young and powerful. But I keep wondering why Plague had given you a blessing, yet asked you not to run from the monster. Why? What is the meaning behind her words? What strength did she grant you with her mark?"

"H-he said I wouldn't rot now." You muttered, leaning closer to the old man. "Nothing else. What other strength could it give me?"

The woman motioned to the elder, and he returned to the door, opening it a little. Before your grandfather had snapped at him furiously, the witch pointed at something on the floor. As you looked there, you saw nothing suspicious and furrowed your brows. What was there so special? As you turned your head to the woman to ask her, your grandfather suddenly gasped.

"Look! Your shadow!"

Carefully observing it again, you realized yours was much longer than shadows of others, though you were all standing close, and it couldn't possibly be the play of light. You gulped down and bit your tongue painfully. What was that all about? What was this power, if there was any at all?

You slowly moved your arm, and the shadow moved its own, following your command as it always did. Except for its length, there was nothing particularly strange.

"Ask it to move by itself."

"What do you mean? How do I ask for it?"

"Just make a wish, it's simple."

Your grandfather was pretty much terrified with witch's words, and for a moment you thought you had never seen him like that in your entire life. The elder, however, didn't look suprised even the slightest bit, and the old woman was almost eager to see what would happened next.

Chewing your lips to bits, you closed your eyes, scared and confused. The next moment you heard one more gasp, knowing that your shadow did exactly what you demanded it to - detach itself from you and move to the wall behind the witch. Dear God, she was right. The blessing gave you something you shouldn't have.

"I don't understand anything at all!" You exclaimed loudly, tearing yourself away from your grandfather and moving back, covering your face with your palms. "Why didn't she tell me about it? And why give me power if I can't escape the monster, anyway?"

"If you can't run... it doesn't mean you can't fight." The wise woman muttered under her breath, but all of you heard her, and you chocked on air. Fight? Fight this deadly creature wandering in the woods?

You asked the shadow to move to the other wall, and it did it again. Dear God, maybe the witch was right.

"Teach her!" You heard your grandfather's desperate voice and saw him gripping the witch's wrinkly arm. "Take whatever I have, but-"

The elder rolled his eyes at this outburst, shaking his head with irritation. "Are you out of your mind, old fool? We will do anything we can. I have not become the elder to watch young girls being snatched away by monsters."

"And now shut up, you two. We don't have much time before the boy comes back. Bring me the bread, the blackberry, and a few candles, now."

____________

It had been two long days before the witch sensed your monster was coming back. You barely slept, spending all your time listening and doing what granny Iva had told you, watching the miracles you could now do all by yourself. She was right, the Plague did grant you power, and though you barely knew what to do with it, even the possibility to fight the creature brought you so much joy.

The woman called him the witch boy. You found it odd: was he the son of some other witch living in the forest? Laughing at you, the elder pointed out the clear difference: granny Iva was a woman who learnt witchcraft, but the boy was the one who was born with magic coursing through his veins, able to see the ghosts and cast spells most humans couldn't. He was only half mortal, and he was probably born to an evil spirit and a human woman. Judging by the huge antlers growing from his head, he was most likely the son of Yeev, the evil deer living in the Northern forests. People used to make human sacrifices to him, bringing him women he apparently mated with. Granny Iva had never heard of him having any children, but maybe one of those poor sacrificial brides was able to bear Yeev a son.

You wouldn't be able to defeate the boy right away, you realized. Although the Plague had granted you power, it would take time to learn how to use it, and the monster would hardly wait for it. You would have to go with him and figure out how to defeat him all by yourself. However, your magic would be enough to keep him from harming you, and it was already something.

That night granny Iva had given your grandfather a sleeping potion secretly. He didn't know that you would still have to leave with the monster, and you couldn't bare watching the old man struggle against it. It was better to put him to sleep.

When the monster opened the door, you had already been prepared to leave and turned to face him, suddely seeing not the skinny boy, but a huge bearded man who barely fit into the door frame. The ash near the door burnt out the very same moment he stepped inside, blue sparks flying the air.

"Were you waiting for me?" He smiled, walking into the house, his body muscular and strong as if he were a blacksmith.

You gawked at him, unsure whether he was the monster you were waiting for. Where was that little boy with a lantern, unhealthy pale and terribly thin?

"Don't look so surprised, little one. I took this form because I thought you'd like it better." Crossing the room, he barely looked at the elderly man, snoring lightly in the corner, and moved closer to you as you backed away from him involuntarily. "Don't be so cold, love. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You pressed your lips into a thin line, looking displeased and clenching your fists. That monster dared to play with you.

"This isn't funny, boy. Why would I care what form you take?" You said, figthing the urge to grab a handful of blackberries your pockets were full with and force them down the creature's throat. "Just get it over with."

Looking at your grim face, he offered you to take his hand, watching you intently with those dark blue eyes of his, and you reached out to him, biting your lips. You had definitely built up some courage from the night you met him, you thought, as he drew you closer, touching your hair. Running his fingers through it, the boy - the man - smiled at you again and drew a little symbol on your forehead, watching you becoming more nervous. Tensed, you furrowed your brows.

"Let's go." You urged him, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the door. "I don't want my grandfather to wake up and see you taking me away."

The man hummed with content and went after you, closing the door once both of you were outside. Feeling the chill in the air, you rubbed your shoulder and looked back at the man with irritation. He was still smiling at you, and you didn't like it.

Turning away from him, you had placed a few blackberries into your mouth, trying not to smash it with your teeth, and then immediately closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your hands around his shoulders and pressing your mouth to his. The man had opened his lips as if he welcomed you. You felt uneasy when he took all the berries willingly. Apparently, he knew of granny Iva's witchcraft.

"You can give me more." He whispered, his short beard brushing against your gentle skin. "It will be more fun this way."

You growled in frustration at his insolence, grasping a handful of blackberries and showing them into his mouth. Taking them all obediently, the man forced your hand to his lips as he licked the dark juicy drops from your skin, slipping his tongue between your fingers. Your face was growing hot with every passing second, but his grip was too strong to push the monster away.

All of a sudden, the antlers on his head appeared again, surrounded by a halo of cold blue light. The magic was starting to show his true colors.

His mouth was dirty with a few berries that got smashed when you pressed your palm against his lips, and you felt an odd urge to lick the little dark spots in the corners of his mouth clean. Damn, he was using his own magic, too.

"Let's go." You grumbled and started to walk in the direction of the woods, not wanting to awake the villagers. The man laughed behind your back and took your hand, speading up.

The silence between you as you moved was unbearable, but you didn't utter a single word until you finally reached the forest, the mist spreading slowly in between the trees. Glancing at the man, you saw he was still in that new form and chew your own tongue. When he was small, it was so much easier to imagine how you would outpower him.

"Could you please turn into the boy again?" You demanded as he came closer - you tried to hide your fear beneath the irritation.

The man chuckled, "Are you saying you'll be more obedient if I stay like this?"

Reaching out to the pocket of your dress, you smashed a few berries in your palm, colouring your skin with the sweet juice, and drew a sign on your arm before the monster reacted. You felt the wind growing stronger as you smiled at him wickedly. If the Plague herself had given you her blessing, you wouldn't become a mere prey of the creature wandering in the woods. You were not a sacrificial lamb.

The man jumped at you the next moment, and you two rolled on the ground, fighting for dominance. Cursing and growling, you bited and kicked and pushed, feeling the creature's cold hands caressing your body through the clothes. No, you wouldn't let him take you like that. Not now, not ever. Gathering all your strength and covering your palm in smashed berry pulp, you grabbed one of the antlers, and the man moaned under you, his huge form slowly changing until you saw a skinny boy lying beneath you. Amazed, he stared at you and stroked your hips lovingly with his arms growing warmer, licking his lips.

"You are so pretty." The boy muttered, looking at you through his trembling lashes. "Kiss me. Please."

Although you wanted to get up, instead you leaned closer, dropping a kiss to his soft discoloured lips and brushing your nose against his. Inhaling his earthy smell, you moved away quickly, glaring at him. Damn it, his magic was still bending you to his will.

"Don't you understand I won't stop?" You grunted, squeezing his antler stronger and making the boy wince and moan again, sitting on top of him. "I will learn, and I will fight you. I'm not gonna be your obedient little girl, listening to your every whim."

"Fight me." The boy whispered, and you felt something hard rising beneath you, brushing against your thigh. "Charm me; curse me. Do whatever you want to me, love. Just stay close."

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @lovelydarkdaydream

[gatherthesuspectspod]

A hundred ways to die in Wales

Hello Tumblr!

My first post ever here! I’m still learning the ropes, so please be kind!

This might be awfully presumptuous of me, but you may recognise the name from a few years back. Before all of this happened, I worked for BBC Radio 4 as their Welsh correspondent - a bit niche, I grant you, but I did alright on social media. I even had a blue tick on Twitter before it went down for good. 

At its peak, whatever media you worked in, scoops were delivered on social media. No one went to the radio or the newspapers for breaking news. Hell, even the TV news was struggling.  So, even radio journalists like me had to be twitter savvy, you know? 

It does make me wonder how Tumblr survived. As a journalist (well, former journalist) I should probably have done some research and found out…  

 My housemate, Jack, suggested I start to keep this blog so that he, in his exact words, ‘wouldn’t have to listen to me moan about not being a journalist anymore.’ So, here I am, coming to scream into the void that is the last social media platform standing (apart from LinkedIn… Shoulda known that even during the apocalypse, start-up CEO Chad Moneybags would still need to post motivational bullshit about 5 am starts and tagging every post with ‘#crushingit’)

Anyway, I’ve strayed slightly from the point… So, this blog isn't going to be full of hard-hitting investigative journalism or even those colourful local news stories you used to see about water skiing hamsters. It’s just going to be me, posting my thoughts about how much more screwed the world is than the previous week. 

Cheerful stuff, right? Well, as REM sang, ‘it’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine’. And you know what, while fine might be stretching a bit, it could be worse...

Before it happened, when people thought about the end of the world, we always pictured some huge catastrophe. ‘The Hollywood Apocalypse,’ Jack calls it. You know the kind - people screaming in the streets as some unspeakable horror unfolds about them. 

In movies, the end of the world was always sudden, over in a flash,  with pockets of humanity left to pick up the pieces of a shattered world. Except, that’s not how it happened, not that we should be surprised, life rarely imitates the movies. 

In fact, it happened so slowly and contained so many individual strands that by the time it arrived, it took us even more by surprise - even the right-wing newspapers didn’t have time to come up with some ‘pithy’ name for it. I’ve always liked the term ‘tipping point,’ The point at which every one of those strands, however linked or disparate, tipped the scales so far against humanity, there was no turning back. 

I mean, we shouldn’t have been surprised. We had been warned, after all. For years (no, decades, even) scientists talked about how we were destroying the earth. From the changing climate to the destruction of entire ecosystems, all in the name of capitalism. 

People warned us it would lead to societal collapse. It wasn’t hard to see it coming, if you were paying attention. But, even if you were paying attention, the sheer magnitude of it was enough to cause even the strongest advocates some blind spots caused by existential terror. Like a Lovecraftian monster rising from the depths of the ocean, who could wrap their head around the true horror.  

Instead, we played out our little culture wars as the planet died… we elected people to distract and not solve… we lied and allowed ourselves to be lied to. Until, in the end, there were so many that no longer cared about the truth that finding a solution was never a possibility.   

The rise of ignorance led to the rise of populism, which led to the rise of fascism, and eventually isolationism. Each country, widowed and trapped in its own poky bachelor apartment of despair. With nothing but memories of past glories to keep it going while the world around slowly burns.

The thing about this kind of creeping apocalypse, this tipping point, is that there is a certain mundanity in it all. There are millions dead, but there was no Hollywood pre-credit sequence of terrified crowds running through Manhattan. 

This apocalypse had an absence of symbols - actually, no. That’s not quite right. I mean, we don’t have the statue of liberty drowning in sand while hyper-intelligent apes roam the planet, sure. But last week, the sea caught on fire… the fucking sea! You’d think after completely decimating the planet for a hundred years, some companies may have learned a lesson or two - like not setting dire to the fucking sea again!

And just today, the newspapers are full of pictures of yet another ghost town in West Wales slowly sinking into the sea. We have our symbols, alright. They are just smaller, more mundane than the Hollywood apocalypse we always felt we deserved - as a species, we are so arrogant that we feel even our extinction deserves something special, something showy. But, like I said, if you are paying attention, there are symbols to be found everywhere. 

Is our slow, boring apocalypse better than the ostentatious apocalypses of Tinseltown, complete with their big budget explosions and alien invasions? I’m honestly not sure. 

One part of me used to think that at least then it would be over quickly. This was a particularly comforting thought during the war, as English shells rained down on Cardiff. But, even the war fizzled slowly, bubbling away around the fringes, with neither country having the resources, will or money to mount any serious threat to the other. It turned out that not even the newly installed Albion dictatorship in England could get away with a costly hot war, while millions of its citizens starved to death. 

It sounds weird to say, but slowly you adjust to it. You know? Slowly, bit-by-bit, the fucking sea being on fire doesn’t seem such a big deal as it did a year ago. Slowly, bit-by-bit, you stop watching the news. You realise the images of starving children 50 miles away over the border have become the norm. 

You become desensitised to the food queues, the extreme swings in weather, the rapidly shrinking coastline. When was the last time you even saw a bee? It’s all just normal. But in spite of all of that, we still sit here, night after night, staring at our tiny plastic phones, reading the latest #crushingit update from that douchebag Chad, half hoping that there is still time for the aliens to show up and finish the job…

I realise that was quite a long run-on sentence, but it’s been a while. I’m out of practice. Like I said, it’s been three years since I last wrote, well, anything! I don’t know if anyone will even read this… I mean how many people can even access Tumblr anymore? But, Jack was right, it did help to get some stuff out.

Until next time (possibly), stay bored out there!

Kara

[hold-my-hand-kuroo]

tendou as my favorite naruto!! openings-

it’s midnight where i am right now, so a big hbd to one of my favorite nerds!!  here’s something quick and dumb that i did while i’m still functioning,,,this is what he would’ve wanted, i’m sure of it.

also before someone @’s me, i have more than four favorite naruto openings, but i just don’t have the time to write them all- (i am a “lovers” supremacist though).

pairing: tendou satori x reader

i. “We’ve pretended to forget the things we held dear, so we can just laugh and say it’s nothing.”

Tendou can’t say that quitting volleyball after high school was a bad idea. No longer does he have to ache throughout his legs and arms, and no longer does he have to practice inside a stuffy gym until the sun was gone. He can finally rest on the weekends or take time to work on assignments before midnight. It’s liberating and less stressful on his part. Plus, even if he slightly missed volleyball from time to time, he could just watch one of Ushijima’s games during his now-open weekends. For sure, Tendou can’t say that he regrets leaving the sport.

But he also can’t say that he doesn’t miss his paradise.

His favorite spot at university is the secluded spot in the back, hidden away from most students. It’s where you find him during long breaks in between classes or during lunch, and it’s where you sit under the shade of a tall tree, watching Tendou as he bounces the volleyball back and forth against the brick wall. The sound is soft, gentle, and steady, and it helps you concentrate on your work. Sometimes, after the long, grueling hours of an all-nighter, you find the noise to be lulling, almost hypnotic. It wasn’t hard for you to nod off.

Today is no exception. Procrastinating and leaving your final papers to the night before wasn’t your best idea, and after what seemed to be the strangest period of limbo, drifting between dozing off and waking up, you found yourself finally submitting and missing your entire night’s worth of sleep. You take your lunch break as an opportunity to finally get some rest, and when you round the corner, Tendou’s already there. He’s humming a tune, fingers pressing against the white ball. Hearing your footsteps, he turns and gives you a wide smile. Even then, he doesn’t stop tossing the ball.

“You look terrible,” he comments, stifling his laughter. You groan, settling against the wood of the tree but make no effort to respond. Tendou changes his song, picking a melody that is more calming while continuing to play. The gentle breeze sets you into a deep slumber with the redhead acting as your lullaby.

When you wake up, you find yourself leaning against his shoulder. Your eyes flutter open and then close almost immediately at the sudden intrusion of sunlight. Tendou chuckles from beside you, placing his hand over your closed lids and whistling to himself. Feeling around for his other hand, you trace your fingertips over his own, lingering touches dancing on his skin. You can tell that he’s in a good mood based on the song he’s humming. It was either that or the kiss he places on your cheek after letting you open your eyes.

“Satori?” you murmur, voice still tinged with drowsiness. He pauses his singing, signaling you to finish your thought. “Why aren’t you in the volleyball club?”

“Babe, are you getting sick of me? Or do you just hate me?” he laughs. “I’d run out of time to breathe, let alone see you on the regular.”

“You don’t miss it?”

“Are you really asking me if I miss being bruised all over and struggling to meet deadlines?” He laughs again and pokes your face with a teasing glint in his eye. “Y/N, I’m hurt!”

“You seem to like it a lot considering that you’re literally playing on your own every day.” You put extra emphasis on the last two words and give him a knowing look. Tendou just shakes his head.

“Nah. I only played in high school because joining a club was required. I don’t really care about it now.” His response is simple, less wordy than his usual elaborations, so you let the topic rest. Closing your eyes again, you take part in the humming. The melodies, completely different, clash like day and night, and it makes both of you laugh.

Tendou watches as you fall back to sleep, eyes filled with fondness. In truth, maybe Tendou misses his volleyball club a little bit. His paradise. Not the sport itself per se, but the people around him. It was hard finding classmates that didn’t find him utterly repulsive, so he wasn’t surprised that he fit well into a team that was filled with nothing but the most eccentric people he has ever met. Ushijima and his love affair with volleyball and Semi with his drive to risk it all were standouts, but he supposes that there were others too. Yeah, he misses them more than he’d like to admit, and he misses spending all his waking hours with them. Just a little.

“You stopped humming.” It’s more of a comment on your part rather a complaint, but you can tell by his jolt that you had unintentionally snapped him out of his deep thoughts. “There’s nothing wrong with missing high school, you know?”

“No, it’s okay.” He lies through his teeth, and you’re aware, but you decide to stay quiet.

ii. “I will never let go of your hand. Tell me what is on your mind.”

Tendou works hard because he knows he’s not enough. Because he feels undeserving.

When you waltzed into his life, he hardly had any time to prepare. It’s the first time someone has ever liked him back, and he’s still surprised to this day. Tendou’s not sure which qualities exactly that have caught your interest, but he’s almost 100% sure that your taste is terrible. There isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t think that the person holding your hand on the street could be someone so much more attractive, so much more appealing. Someone who didn’t make kids hide whenever they saw him or someone who could embrace you and say with full confidence that you deserved each other. You don’t need someone that constantly makes you worry. You definitely don’t need a guy like him.

He knows your entire schedule and pays special attention to your free periods so that he can visit you. His head is now space for him to keep notes on every little thing about you from your pet peeves to your favorite snacks. It’s counterintuitive for sure, thinking that he’s not worth your time but also desperately trying to keep a hold of you. It’s paradoxical, he knows, but he’s stuck in a limbo of wishing you the very best while also craving your touch and affection at any moment given in time. It’s selfish, and he finds himself wondering if the title of ‘Monster’ is fitting after all.

“Are you sure you’re okay like this?” he asks nervously one Saturday with you sitting by his side. You look at him curiously, setting your book down.

“What do you mean?” His eyes become shifty, looking away.

“I mean, aren’t you bored just reading manga at my house?” he asks, chuckling nervously. “We could go to that restaurant you wanted to go to instead-“

“We’re always doing the things I want though, Satori,” you whine. “That’s why today’s date is something you like. You’ve been wanting to catch up with this series for a while now, right?”

“Yeah, but-,” he tries to protest, frowning, but you just shake your head, silencing him. You don’t know much about the series, but you whenever you see Tendou’s eyes glitter at something particularly cool that his favorite characters did, your heart becomes warm. It’s incredibly endearing, and you definitely want to spend all day just watching him pursue his interests instead of fussing over you. You want to know more about his hobbies, his likes, and dislikes, but he’s oddly reserved about those topics.

“Which character is your favorite?” You ask in hopes of having Tendou open up and maybe give you a passionate rant, a sight you’ve been wanting to see for a while now. Nudging at his lanky arm, you crawl under, placing yourself in his lap. He immediately sets the volume down and pulls you into a tight embrace, balancing his chin on top of your head. You’re not upset about it, but you’re just a little disappointed. You were hoping that he’d keep reading.

“Do you know any of the characters?” he responds teasingly. You shake your head and pick up the book. “I can start from the beginning if you want-“

“No, no, no! Keep reading.” You’re urging him to continue, practically holding the pages over your head so that he can see them. Tendou laughs, shifts his chin to your shoulder, and complies, taking hold of the book once again. You’re not sure if he’s actually paying attention to the storyline since he keeps peppering you with kisses every few pages or so, but this is a good start. “What’s going on?”

“Curious, are we?” He clears his throat and points to one of the characters. “You see this guy over here? He’s the villain. My favorite, since you asked.”

“Is he…your type?”

“You’re my type,” Tendou coos, stifling another fit of laughter. He continues describing the plot, however, going through what has developed since volume one, each pivotal character, his favorite moments, and unbelievably deep analysis on symbols and events. He’s usually a chatty person, but you’ve never seen him rave over something so personal to who he is as a person. It wasn’t like when he would talk endlessly about something funny that happened or something he saw. Rather, his glow and animated gestures, his sense of comfort, and his lack of restraint keep you mesmerized, and it’s then that you realize that Tendou rarely talks about his hobbies in front of you. You wish he would.

“This is nice,” you murmur, returning a kiss onto his cheek. He immediately stiffens, and you’re a little bit startled. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry for rambling,” he says rather on edge. He quickly closes the manga, arms returning to wrap around your body. “It was boring listening to me just talk about-“

“I thought it was cute though.” You sigh and turn around to face him. Pressing your nose to his, your lips are just barely a few millimeters apart from his. “I could listen to you talk about this all day, Satori.”

Tendou’s not sure if it’s the kiss that you press on his lips that intoxicates him or if it’s the fact that you smell like his shampoo, but for a moment, he feels himself wondering if it’d be okay to let you in onto his hobbies, his likes, his dislikes, and everything that he tries so hard to keep from you in fear of driving you away. Just for a second, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it’d be fine for him to open up.

iii. “You cried just now like a sobbing child. Even if the future becomes invisible, I will protect you.”

An angel. That’s what Tendou thinks you are when you let him rest his head on your chest and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer into your comforting warmth. He’s calmed by the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and the soft beating of your heart. The way your fingers rake through his hair, the way your humming fills the emptiness, you’re his safe haven, his sanctuary. His new paradise. He likes how you just seem to know what’s wrong, because he hates to complain, especially to you. He would much rather prefer making you laugh with a funny joke or story, but for now, he lets you play with his hair and caress his back.

You’re humming the song that he often sings for you when you’re feeling down. While you’re not exactly the perfect vocalist, straining at some high parts, you wonder if it helps Tendou at all, even if minimally. He cries quietly, and you wonder if it’s because he’s spent years being sad alone. The thought pains your heart, so instead, you take his palm and place it against your lips, quietly whispering praise. Things about him being more than enough and things that you wonder if he’d laugh at, you pour your sincerity into it all. You know he’ll tell you when he’s ready, so you find a way to pass the time.

“Let’s take a bath, Satori,” you mumble into his hair, waiting to see if he’s willing to get off of you. His movement is slow, reluctant, but you do feel him nodding, getting off of you with his head hung low. He doesn’t mean to be so down, so annoying, and he doesn’t hold it against you if you get irritated. But you don’t, and he feels like he’s the luckiest man in the world. “I’ll wash your hair for you. Come on.”

He holds your hand all the way to the bathroom, refusing to lose contact from the warmth of your skin. Even when the two of you are getting undressed, he’s quickly back to leaning into you in the tub. It’s a little bit difficult since his limbs are so long and lanky, but with a bit of curling up on Tendou’s part, you make enough space for yourself. He practically sinks into your fingers rubbing through his scalp, and you see his shoulders begin to lose their tension. You hum, satisfied, and work the soap around his body, helping him wash up. The smile that spreads across your face when he starts humming back is wide. You feel a little bit dumb, but you’re just so relieved that Tendou’s energy is finally back. The giggles that spill from your lips as he splashes about practically pour out from your pretty lips that Tendou wants to kiss so, so badly, but he decides to wait for a more comfortable position.

He hates to admit it, but he loves the feeling of being pampered. Granted, he was always more of a giver, but he supposes that being on the receiving side of things isn’t as bad as he initially thought, especially when you take the towel to rub against his hair and sit him down on the couch with hairdryer in hand.

“My hair is gonna get all puffy if you use that,” is the first complete sentence that leaves his mouth after returning home that night. He lacks his usual energy, but you don’t blame him. Rather, his soft chuckle sends your own spirits flying. “I’ll look ridiculous.”

“Really?” you muse, plugging in the device despite his protests. “I think you’ll be cute, all fluffy and stuff.”

“Why don’t you get a pet or something instead then?”

“Wouldn’t you get jealous if I paid too much attention to a cat over you?”

He pretends to think hard, then nods his head rapidly. You giggle again, maneuvering the hairdryer around his head. The machine is a little loud, but you can hear Tendou back to his usual humming, moving his body around ever so slightly just to make your task a lot harder than it was supposed to be. You watch as he swings left and then right with a certain mischievousness about him, twiddling with his fingers and then casually flipping on the television to his favorite channel. You’re not sure if he actually likes the show that’s being broadcasted or just the BGM, as he never really watched it and would much rather prefer to listen to the audio only while doing something else.

“Babe, can this be our song,” he jokes before going back to sing the opening lyrics to the children’s show.

“Satori, I don’t even know this show,” you reply, trying to sound exasperated as possible. He knows you’re pretending though and raises a curious brow. Then, he breaks into a grin. “I don’t have a good feeling about this-“

“What do you want to watch then?” His question is abrupt, but his eyes glint impishly. You’d be nervous if you weren’t overjoyed at his newly regained energy. “You sound like you want to do something else.”

“You’ll catch a cold,” you try to scold, but he pays no head, grabbing the hairdryer out of your hand and shutting it off. He tugs at the chord gently, unplugging it all together, and reaches for your waist. He places you securely on your lap. You can only stammer short retorts that are muffled by the energetic kisses he places all over your face. He relishes in every giggle and every squeal that escapes your mouth. Even the ways your eyes crinkle when you’re smiling makes his heart go insane. Suddenly, he stops to rest his forehead against yours. Your gaze almost absorbs him completely, but he doesn’t have qualms about that part.

“What’s wrong, Satori?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

He takes a deep breath. “Do you…mind if I vent a little?”

“You know you never have to ask for permission about that, right?” You kiss him on each of his eyes, each a little bit puffy, and then on his cheek. “I’m all ears.”

iv. “So keep trying to break free to that blue, blue sky.”

It’s always a fun, albeit loud, time when Tendou invites his old Shiratorizawa friends over for his reunion parties. You don’t mind at all, of course, considering that you were the one who encouraged this gathering in the first place. To be honest, you’re a little bit curious about how he acts around his closest friends that he talks so much about. You even wonder if a man like Ushijima Wakatoshi, the one you only see on TV or in interviews, is actually as funny as Tendou makes him out to be. In other words, you expect your home to be loud, but what you didn’t expect was that it’d be loud over you.

“Guys, Y/N’s super-duper gorgeous, right?” he asks for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. He’s set on making Ushijima give in to the fact that you’re the most beautiful person in the entire universe, but you wonder how many times you have to witness the professional’s utter silence at the question before Tendou would give up. “Toshi, you should just give it up already and say it!”

“I haven’t seen every single person in this universe, so I can’t answer,” his friend answers, brushing him off. Shirabu snorts from Ushijima’s side.

“Boo,” Tendou whines, kissing your face. From the corner of your eye, you catching Goshiki gagging. “Can’t you be a little bit more excited over the love of my life?”

“We are excited.” Semi chuckles, whacking Tendou a few times on the back to which the red-head responds with feigned pain. “But we know you’ll start sulking if we go overboard with the compliments.”

“I do not sulk that easily!” Tendou huffs, chest puffed out, and slaps Semi back. He only laughs. “I can’t believe I’m being bullied by a guy with no sense of style at all!”

“I asked you about this jacket before I bought it, and you told me it was fine!”

“You shouldn’t have asked him at all.” Shirabu smirks from across the table, arms crossed. “I bet this smart ass thought it was Y/N texting him instead of you, Semi.”

“You didn’t have to do him like that,” Kawanishi mumbles from beside the former setter. Still, that doesn’t wipe away the smirks they’re both wearing, and Tendou can only chuckle sheepishly.

“Well, what am I supposed to when Y/N looks good in anything?” Tendou sighs. His exasperation and added theatrical flair make you giggle even though you’re slightly embarrassed that he’s showing off to everyone from his old team. “Semi Semi, if it was Y/N wearing that jacket, it’d look great. You? Not so much.”

“That’s the most roundabout way of insulting me.” Shirabu and Kawanishi snicker quietly, earning a glare from Semi that goes ignored. “I suddenly remember why all the underclassmen thought you were such a hassle, Tendou.”

You turn to him in fascination. It wasn’t a surprise to you that he liked to tease and poke fun of other people, but you never thought that he was a bully. You initially had imagined Tendou to be a well-respected senior based on his reputation as a middle-blocker. Never in a million years did you think that it was the exact opposite.

“Goshiki, is that true?” you turn to ask, and the younger man nods emphatically. He’s agreeing with Semi so much that his nods make his hair fly all over the place, earning a loud laugh from Tendou.

“Y/N, Tendou was the absolute worst,” Goshiki answers, setting down his drink so forcefully that it almost spills. “He’d always ignore us when we did something good, but then he’d compliment us for absolutely nothing. It messed me up so much that instead of expecting him to cheer for landing a really good serve, I waited for praise for turning off the lights or something. Tendou was awful.”

“That was probably you being dumb, but I do agree that Tendou was never quiet during practice.” Shirabu grimaces, but you’re not sure if it’s because he just remembered something particularly annoying or if it’s because he’s agreeing with Goshiki. “I never want to go back.”

“I remember one time, he thought it’d be funny to salt the water,” Kawanishi mutters and the entire table breaks into a loud groan. “Yeah, I think I have to agree with you guys. Tendou was a handful.”

From beside you, you hear Tendou tsking and catching him wagging a disapproving finger. “Guys, you can’t insult Y/N like that! I’m gonna beat you guys up if you keep going on.”

“Dude, we get it.” Semi punches him once on the arm and then another time for good measure. “You’re married. You’ve told us a million times.”

“There’s that and the fact that we were, you know, at the wedding,” Shirabu sighs.

“Congratulations.” Ushijima’s comment is a little out of place, especially since the ceremony was already a month ago, and he had been one of the first people that Tendou told, but you only smile and thank him again. “It was an honor to be the best man.”

“Toshi, you don’t have to be so formal, you know?” Tendou grins, resting his chin on his hand. From underneath the table, you feel his other hand reach for yours, running his digits over the silver band sitting on your ring finger. “But really, I’m just reminding you guys that Y/N and I are married. I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot since you’re all always so busy.”

“Oh, what would I give to forget you?” Shirabu sighs, earning another chuckle from Kawanishi and even Semi.

You laugh at the playful banter between Tendou and his friends. You squeeze his hand gently, and even while he’s participating in a heated debate with Semi over the gray-haired man’s best album, your husband makes sure to return your squeeze. In full truth, Tendou’s still aware of every little thing that you do. It’s one of the many things that have stayed the same over the years. He still sings, and he still likes to mess up your hair, but most importantly, he makes it a point to keep remembering everything about you. Tendou’s aware that something in him has changed, so he reasons that maybe you had your little changes too. And he’d remember all of them.

“Hey, spill the tea, Y/N,” Semi jokes. “Doesn’t Tendou make for a terrible husband?”

“Yeah right,” Tendou scoffs. His grin doesn’t falter and only widens when you shake your head at Semi. “That’s absolutely correct! I’m the best husband ever."

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 7

Chapter: 7/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: derealization/delirium, fainting, general depictions of illness Excerpt: It was quiet in the hall, but that didn't mean much as of late. Still, it didn't matter. Janus' days of skulking around in the shadows were well and truly over. Now he would stand tall in the light so intense it didn't even let him cast a shadow.

Mhm, a monster's here Mhm, you plug your ears But hey, you might just listen to it sing Please let the Devil in

Janus awoke with a single-minded focus and a fire raging in his chest; it burnt away the distractions and fears he built for himself. He had to talk to Roman and it couldn't wait another second. He'd already put it off for far too long.

Getting out of bed was a struggle; Janus' blankets were all tangled up in his legs. He threw them on the floor and got up, bypassing the folded paper on his nightstand. He had neither the time nor the patience for another one of Remus' awful poems.

It was quiet in the hall, but that didn't mean much as of late. Still, it didn't matter. Janus' days of skulking around in the shadows were well and truly over. Now he would stand tall in the light so intense it didn't even let him cast a shadow.

He knocked on Roman's door with a bare fist and listened for the shuffling of feet on the floor. No sound came. He knocked again. "It's Janus," he said, lest Roman mistake him for Patton and bury his head deeper in the sand. "I've come to apologize."

The door flew open and would have bounced off the wall had Roman not caught it with his hand. It left his chest wide open, vulnerable, showed Janus all the bleeding wounds he hadn't seen before. "Great," he said, glowering at Janus. "So you can run back to the others and brag about how much better of a person you are than me?"

Janus blinked hard. The lights from Roman's room formed a halo behind his head and surely that wasn't symbolic at all.

"No," Janus said with difficulty. His mouth was dry and his tongue didn't seem to want to work.

It had been warm in the hall but as he stepped over the threshold into Roman's room, a creeping chill made his joints stick.

"Are you coming in or not?" Roman asked.

Janus shut the door behind him and fought to regain his wits. The simple act of standing left him breathless and sore, but it made the fog roll out a little. "Aren't you going to offer me a chair?"

Roman glared at him. With choppy, deliberate movements, he grabbed the back of his rolling desk chair and thrust it at Janus.

"Thank you." Janus sat and fixed his eyes on Roman's hazy, angry features. The ceiling light made his eyes ache, but he refused to flinch. He had to get this right.

"Well, Billy Flynn-truder." Roman held out his arms, again opening up his chest. Janus blinked. There had never been any blood on him at all, had there? "What do you really want?"

"What?" Janus asked through numb lips.

"Like you'd ever apologize to me. That was just another lie to get me to let you in, and guess what? It worked. You got me again, Deceit."

"Janus."

Roman scoffed. "Spit it out already, Horrorboros."

Janus squinted. Hadn't he already said? Maybe he hadn't. He pulled his elbows in tight to his sides and shivered. "I came to apologize."

"Fine, we're sticking with that." Roman towered over him, anger blazing in his eyes.

For a split second, Janus was worried Roman might hit him, never mind the fact that, for all his boisterousness, Roman had never been the overly violent sort. But now the possibility loomed in Janus' mind and made him shudder and pull his arms tighter around himself. "I'm sorry."

"There, it's over." Roman turned away from him. "Run and tell Patton and Tho-- and the others what a good boy you are. Everyone loves a reformed sinner."

"I'm sorry," Janus said again. "I--" Shame made his face hot even as icy shudders ran through his limbs. "Roman, I n-never meant to hurt you."

"Never?" Roman asked, low and deadly.

"Well, at the end--" What was wrong with him? It was a struggle to get words out, any words at all. Even the wrong words. The walls tilted sickeningly. "It was wrong of me to use you. The courtroom scenario-- I told you what you wanted to hear."

"I know."

"And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have played with your emotions. I didn't-- I didn't know better at the time; I was scared, and... I-- I would have done anything to get you to listen to me."

Roman whipped his head around so sharply it made Janus' own neck ache in sympathy. "You're lying."

Despair rose in Janus' chest, trying to escape in the form of one desperate, broken sob. He swallowed it down. "Not this time."

"Why should I believe you?" Roman demanded.

"Because I mean it!" Janus shot back at equal volume. It sent waves of agony pulsing through his head. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I used you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I just wanted you to listen to me. That's all I ever wanted."

"That's. Not. Good enough."

"It's all I have. I gave you my name, Roman. I don't have anything else to give." Janus' chest ached as he took in frantic, shallow gasps. Tears welled up his eyes, not of shame or penance, but fear. What if he wasn't good enough? What if he lost his place?

"Spare me," Roman said, voice sharp with disgust. Janus looked up at him, fighting exhaustion with every muscle in his body.

Roman frowned. "That's not going to work."

"What?" Janus sighed, feeling his posture worsen with the prolonged exhalation.

"Stand up," Roman demanded. "Stop looking at me like that."

It was the least he could do. Janus stood even though his legs shook underneath him.

"Where are your gloves?" Roman asked. He sounded very far away. "Where's your hat?"

"I don't know," Janus said numbly. He could feel himself shivering even though he could no longer feel the cold. He tried to stop and couldn't, and that fact bothered him less than he thought it should.

"Janus, seriously. I'm not buying it. Drop the act."

Janus just shook his head. Roman didn't have to keep rubbing it in, although he probably was revelling in Janus' failure.

He would crawl back to Remus, then, except… He couldn't seem to move.

"Fine!" Roman shouted. "You're scaring me. I'll-- I'll hear you out, just stop--"

His words faded under the sharp hiss and roar of static in Janus' ears. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath. White and red crowded his vision; his face connected hard with Roman's sash.

Then, just like the end of the movie, everything faded to black.

Aside

Roman's voice sounded in Logan's dreams and ripped him back to reality. His body moved before he registered what was happening, a fight-or-flight response he didn't usually exhibit.

He ripped the door open and came face to face with Roman, who…

Logan's stomach dropped.

In his arms, Roman cradled Janus' unconscious form. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths and his face was frighteningly pale where it wasn't stained an angry, feverish red.

"I swear I didn't do anything to him!" Roman said frantically. "He was in my room and we-- He-- I don't know what happened!"

"Roman," Logan said. "I need you to breathe." He paused and made a split-second decision. "Follow me."

He stepped around Roman, careful not to bump into Janus, and strode down the hall toward Janus' door.

"When did that happen?" Roman asked, seeming to forget his panic in his surprise.

"After…" Logan said. "Well." He didn't usually shy away from difficult topics of conversation, but he thought it best not to upset or overwhelm Roman at the moment. He took the handle and opened the door for Roman. "Put him on the bed, please."

"Right." Roman entered and hesitated, letting out a shaky breath through his nose as he looked around.

"Roman," Logan prompted.

"Sorry." Roman swallowed hard and gently set Janus on the bed. "I just-- I don't know what happened."

"He's sick," Logan said, taking care to keep his voice even. It wouldn't do to further upset Roman.

"I can see that!" Roman snapped.

"Roman. Breathe. You didn't do anything wrong." Logan needed a scan thermometer, and one manifested in his hand. The readout forced him to swallow down a wave of concern. "I need ice," he said. Ice packs appeared under Janus' arms and legs where they connected with his torso.

Janus yelped and thrashed, tears forming in his eyes. Logan held him by the shoulders until his struggling died down into the occasional flinch and shudder.

"You're hurting him!" Roman shouted. He took a deep breath. "Sorry-- Sorry, I know--"

"It's okay," Logan said. "Sit down." He held eye contact while Roman sank down into one of Janus' leather armchairs. "He's going to be okay, Roman."

Roman braced his elbow on one armrest and cupped his forehead in his hand. "I keep messing up," he said in a strained, thin voice.

Calling Patton for backup would only add more emotions to the situation and make it harder to look after both Janus and Roman. Logan had to handle this himself. "Roman, Janus has been sick since last night. Whatever happened wasn't your fault."

"I can't believe his door moved!"

Logan sat down on the edge of the bed, apprehension increasing his heart rate. He had done all he could do for Janus. Now it was time to put his underdeveloped interpersonal skills to the test, as adding anyone else to the equation would only make things messier and less efficient.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"He apologized to me!" Roman looked angry. Logan couldn't fathom why. He had felt a nearly overwhelming sense of relief when Janus had apologized to him. Relief and responsibility to correct his own mistakes. Why was Roman angry?

"You didn't want that?" Logan guessed.

"I don't know! I'm confused." Roman sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Logan, I know emotions aren't your thing."

"I…" Logan adjusted his tie. "I'm working on it. Please be patient with me."

"Jeeze, what all did I miss?" Roman asked, touching his forehead.

"Quite a bit," Logan said, before realizing that the question was probably rhetorical. "Roman, to be completely honest, I don't know what you need right now."

"I know." Roman sighed and shifted positions so he could rest his elbows on his knees. "I'll-- I'll figure it out. I'll go back to my room and get out of your way…"

"I want to help you," Logan said. His own emotions were distant, abstract, confusing things, so he used broad terminology to better make his point. "I feel… worried." Roman took a breath to interrupt, but Logan held up a hand. "I'm not done."

"Sorry," Roman mumbled

"I'm worried about you," Logan said. "And it was Janus who helped me reach the point where I can tell you this now: I care about you, Roman. I don't want you to go back to your room."

"But I'm… I don't--" Roman swallowed hard and tears welled up in his eyes. "I don't deserve--"

"Roman," Logan interrupted. Guilt reared up at his having done so, but he couldn't allow Roman to further agitate himself. "It's not about what you think you deserve. It's about trying to be better than you were before. Hiding away in your room accomplishes nothing. I know that's not who you are. You're brave and headstrong and I've never known you to run away from a challenge."

Roman sniffled and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. "Wow, Teacher Feature. That was really…" He sighed and seemed to lose interest in what he was about to say. "Thank you, Logan. I'm just… Embarrassed. I acted like…"

Logan physically bit down on his tongue to avoid suggesting a few vocabulary words.

"Like Captain Hammer," Roman said.

Logan frowned. "You beat up Janus in an attempt to win Patton's and/or Thomas' affections?"

" No, Specs," Roman chuckled mirthlessly. "Well. Not literally. But I did make fun of him in front of everyone. And not in the fun way, like when I tease you guys." He flashed Logan a smile. "And then he apologized to me! Or tried to." Roman ran his hands through his hair. "But that makes me the villain of the story!"

"Ah," said Logan, thrown for somewhat of a (metaphorical) loop. "Well. Are you planning on building a giant freeze ray?"

"No."

"Do you seek world domination?"

"No…?"

"Do you believe that you are entitled to hurt others or that their desires are somehow expendable in service of your own?"

"No?"

"Then you're not a villain, Roman, super or otherwise. You're just human. Well, as human as any of us can possibly be. You made mistakes. So did Patton. So did Janus. So did I. The best thing you can do, in my opinion, is to work to make things better. I believe that's what Janus was attempting to do when he visited you "

"Ugh!" Roman ran his hands down his face. "I can't believe he beat me to the punch!"

Logan squinted. "So you did hit him?"

"Just an expression, Spocktor Who."

"I see."

Well… If Janus did it first, I'm going to do it better ," Roman said.

[satoruvt]

fanfic writer tag game <3

helloooo <3 thank u for tagging me @hannie-dul-set this is so cute lol

ummmm! i think i will tag. @leejuyeeon and @seokmingiggles !! and as always anyone else who wants to <33

peum ~

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

omg lets see if i can do this in order. i think the first fandom i ever wrote fanfic for was creepypasta LMAOO and then... fairy tail? then 5 seconds of summer, then maybe it 2017?? voltron legendary defender, detroit become human, monster prom and mystic messenger kind of overlapped, the arcana !!! then my hero academia, haikyuu, a Little bit of demon slayer... i think thats it lol

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

seventeen is all for rn, but i’m thinking of also writing for mha again and adding jjk!!

3. how long have you been writing?

oh wow for like... probably around 6 years? maybe 6 and a half

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

rn just tumblr, i used to post more actively on ao3 but i havent since i started writing for kpop

5. what is your favourite genre to write?

ahhh like !!! comfort fics!!! i think theres something really sweet in those unspoken feelings during moments you think you’ll never forget... the idea of being with someone and you’re just so sure they’re your favorite person, and then warmth that comes with that realization... wahh

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

oh it depends i think. for longer fics i like to plan them out, but i really wing it with like timestamps or shorter ones

7. one shot or multi-chapter?

ONE SHOTS. my god i fucking suck at multi-chapter shit LMAOO ive only done 1 series like that and it was so rough for me lol

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

hm how do i explain this... anything that makes sense? however long it takes for it to feel like the chapter/fic is summed up or completed. i used to worry about word counts a lot but now i rarely pay attention to them, both in reading and writing

9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?

if we’re talking about multi-chaptered, then the color of you wins at 17k !! in terms of one shots, it’s for now; forever at 9k!

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

oh boy. i think... anything from the last like. 8 months? my svt stuff for sure!! i went a while without writing in between like january-late november 2020, and i was worried that my writing would suffer a lot... it took a sec for me to get back into the groove of things but i’m feeling happier than ever with the stuff i write now. i feel like ive matured about the way i approach my own writing and ideas, and how i do everything, and my fics make me really proud. ive started writing within different aus that i hadnt touched before, or talking about different feelings or ideas, etc... i really feel like ive grown with this most recent burst lol, and i love working on them! i get so hyped up when im in the middle of writing or even planning, im just so excited to share all of it hehe

11. favorite request you've have written and why (if any?)

ah its been so long since ive worked with requests that i cant remember anything LOL

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

yes. it is comfort and content. it is the feeling of love. it is holding hands on a walk in the middle of spring and smelling flowers. it is the sound of leaves when a gust of wind blows past. it is looking into ur lovers eyes and feeling nothing but pure fondness

13. current number of wips?

fuck like somewhere around 20 probably

14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?

i really like repetition (specifically in sentences if that makes sense??), LOTS of unspoken things (even if i picture a fic with an established relationship, i dont say it within the fic; and especially concerning romantic feelings, i love when things go unsaid and are FELT full force), i think a lot of detailed rambling... i really like to try and describe emotions and stuff in the most abstract and obscure ways lol i feel like it makes things a little more palpable and honest

15. a quote you like from a published story

im gonna do a few. Lol. firstly this long one from pretend people can unlearn:

“Are you…” Jeonghan starts, and when you look at him, his eyes are still on the city in front of you. “Are you ever afraid that we’ll fall out of love?”

It never occurred to you that this was love. It’s not like the love you’ve experienced in the past, not even close. But maybe… maybe that’s why you never leave, why you hold yourself back from certain arguments like it might fix everything. Maybe love is the reason why Jeonghan still seems to believe in you. Why he promises he’ll be the best thing for you despite always breaking that promise.

(Is it love, a voice in your head questions, or is it longing?)

It takes you a while to respond. “I don’t know,” you end up saying, because you really don’t. Jeonghan turns his head and looks at you, and you half expect him to start an argument in the middle of night, out on the street like this. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Would that… be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Jeonghan answers, just like you. His voice is soft. You want to reach for his hand just to hold it. “You’re still…”

He pauses, like he’s trying to find the right word. You let him take his time, for once, instead of accusing him of the worst. “I’m still?”

“Everything,” he tells you. He looks so sad and you reach out for him because it’s the only thing you can offer. You think the worst thing about your relationship with Jeonghan is that you will always believe him when he gets like this, just like you’ll believe him when he takes it back in the heat of a fight.

next is from like there isn’t something missing <3

But you’re crying into his chest because it’s not you, and it’s not him. Seungcheol wonders if it was always meant to be like this, if the two of you were always meant to part or if something… if something just went wrong, somewhere. A bump that did a bit more damage than either of you thought.

He tries not to think about it now. Tears fill his own eyes as he presses a kiss to your hair because he loved you. He truly did.

“I was so lucky to love you,” he murmurs, voice a cracked whisper. “I’m so happy I got the chance.”

When Seungcheol wakes up the next morning in an empty bed, he’s not surprised. But the Post-It note that’s dressed in your handwriting…

Well. It’s over.

and this last one from only for you, i will dance !!

“This will always be our own time,” he says. “We’ll meet here.”

You know. He says it every time. It never fails to make your heart soar.

“Our thirteenth month,” you say, just like every time. Chan smiles.

He kisses you so strong you feel yourself falling.

16. a quote from an unpublished story

ahh ok ill do a few here too!!! one is something ive begun writing, the other is one that i’ve just been working on planning out <3

Smoke blows past somebody else’s lips and partially obstructs Wonwoo’s view of you.

He hasn’t been to a party like this in a long time. It’s elegant, more of a gala than anything. He can’t remember who threw it or for what reason. It doesn’t really matter, he supposes, watching you make conversation with the partygoers. They all have old money to throw around, the symbolism stitched into their suit jackets and red-rimmed heels; remnants of it left on tables and in the contents of expensive cigars.

You play them like you are one of them, tell them the right things with a silver tongue. Wonwoo always watches, plays the part of an observer. It’s impressive, the way you float around the room like it’s nothing.

Wonwoo observes; Wonwoo knows things.

and the second one...

"you don't know me," you respond. your voice carries no bite, just a fact, and joshua knows this

"i want to," he says after a second. "if you'll let me."

and he's asking permission to be your friend, to be close to you, something so tender and strangely polite

it makes you feel almost sad

"don't expect too much," you say, a little teasing. joshua only smiles

17. space for you to say something to your readers

wahhh thank you all so much!!! when i first got into writing for kpop it was a lot different mostly because i think... i was writing stuff for different anime before, and i had built up a big following because of that and my works always did like, really exceptional in terms of notes and feedback and such, and getting into kpop... has been rough on that end 💀 but i appreciate your support thus far, even if it’s small... i’m still working towards a standard that i have for myself!!! so please be patient with me, thank you for the support !!

also please find it in yourself to leave lil comments or any sort of feedback... please..... PLEASE... any creator ever understands this struggle please always try to do this!!! for me and for any other creator you follow and enjoy content from <333

[itsd-man]

My retrospective on the Star vs. the Forces of Evil Series Finale, 1 year later.

One year ago today on May 19, 2019, the Series Finale of Star vs. the Forces of Evil episode “Cleaved” aired, thus marking the end of the series. I just want to let you know that Star vs. the Forces of Evil was one of my favorite animated shows during the latter half of the 2010s during my late teens into my early adulthood, I loved the characters and the storytelling and if I’m a bit biased, Starco, but despite a few hiccups, I do think that overall It was a good series that I believe that people should watch. You may not entirely agree with everything I have to say, but I want to talk about my further opinions on the episode Cleaved and a few episodes before that as a whole, and why I didn’t think the episode is bad as some people have said. 

Some fans and critics felt that the ending was rushed, and incomplete and left many plot points open, many accused of Star committing a “Multiverse Mass Genocide” and only Destroyed Magic, all because she thought she’d never see Marco again and that it’s the only way they’ll be together, which rubbed some people the wrong way, with some thinking it’s the “Worst Series Finale of All Time”, or something like that somewhat making me feel guilty, but I wanted to give an in-depth, level-headed approach to this, and why I think there’s some good in it.

I just want to let you know that while I thought for the most part Season 4 was okay, I would be lying if I said it was far from perfect, or downright terrible. One of the many plot points during Season 4 was Mina Loveberry becoming the big baddie at the end of the series, while I did like Toffee during Season 1-3 his arc was pretty much over when he was defeated by Star in “Toffee”, I felt like Mina wasn’t exactly a competent villain, but okay, given the whole Monsters are evil towards Mewmans. It was interesting to see why a Mewman like herself doesn’t like monsters from a Mina’s point-of-view.  It’s not uncommon for a series to have more than one villain and Star Vs. is no exception. 

The whole Mewmans’ prejudice/racist against Monsters was a thing all the way back in Season 1 of the series, Star hated Monsters at the beginning, and that’s why she kept fighting them, prejudice towards something doesn’t happen immediately, it’s taught, which Star learned that it wasn’t right as the series went along. 

Now, one of the other reasons why some think that people didn’t really like Season 4 or Season 3 to an extent, was the somewhat fast-paced, Romantic Relationships like with Tom and Star, and Kelly and Marco. Really, I didn’t mind it, but I mainly didn’t really think that Kelly and Marco’s short stint was very necessary down the line, and the break-up in “A Boy and His DC-9000XE” felt underwhelming, to say the least. It was the show’s way of portraying that in Most Teenagers like Marco, Star, Tom, etc the first person you meet or date isn’t necessarily going to be the perfect match. 

Next, one of the other aspects I want to talk about is when Star’s Mother, Moon Butterfly, conspiring with Mina Loveberry to overthrow Eclipsa’s reign as queen, helped the Magical High Commission and freeing Globgor in “Cornonation” and betraying Star and Eclipsa’s trust, but I want to explain why this isn’t completely out-of-character for her. 

Moon when she was about Star’s age, was a carefree young teen until her Mother, Comet was tragically killed by Toffee, and that forced her to make a decision with her life, and that’s the starting point of when she had a grudge against Monsters.  Moon only did what she thought was best for her people as Queen even if it wasn’t her intention of risking their lives in doing so, which gave her the nickname “Moon the Undaunted.” 

You kind of have to look at this at Moon’s perspective, she was fully accepting of Eclipsa being queen, relieving her of her stressful life of being queen, even at one point rejecting Mina’s plan overthrow Eclipsa, until she saw Mewmans being kicked out of their homes, that and she Inadvertently caused the Realm of Magic to be partially corrupted after that fight with Eclipsa’s daughter, Meteora in Season 3′s “Tough Love”, it made Moon struggle with herself in that she was no longer the queen anymore and being a commoner, that made Moon decide that she should take back the title of the queen because she Eclipsa was being incompetent as ruler of the kingdom. She explicitly said to Star and doesn’t trust her and distanced herself from her all because of those past events.

To further drive that idea that Eclipsa was “unfit” to rule Mewni, was when she used the Spell With No Name on the Solarian Warrior in the episode “The Right Way”, in which really took a lot of energy to use, but Eclipsa didn’t mind doing it, but Star was hesitant of her decisions as well.

I just want to let you know that Moon is not an “Evil, Heartless Person” who wouldn't do something like this, just for the sake of doing so. It’s well, she felt separated from her family, especially from her daughter, for trusting Eclipsa, and in a way, she felt like Star liked Eclipsa more than her, but she what she didn’t expect when trusting Mina in trying to make Eclipsa stand down as queen was she underestimated Mina’s mental health when making those Solarian Warriors. 

Moon didn’t want Eclipsa hurt, or any other Mewman or Monster to get hurt, she thought she had everything under control when she tried to undo the Solarian Spell, which ended up backfiring on her causing Mina to turn on Moon. I think that the writers were trying to convey that Moon is a complex, flawed character and that even good characters can make mistakes, but I think it could have been explained much more in my opinion.

I love Moon, she is one of my most favorite characters in Star Vs., behind Star herself. Honestly, I was shocked it happened, it wasn’t particularly my favorite aspect from Season 4 to say the least. But that didn’t stop me from not liking her near the end, which I’ll get to soon. 

All of these events ultimately decided for Star to reconsider if using Magic was worth it after all, as she claimed that Magic causes more harm than good, and while I didn’t think the aspect was terrible, it was just that it was sudden. 

Magic was a core aspect all the way at the beginning of the series, and the sudden misconception that all Magic is evil was based on Star’s tough decision can come across as a misunderstanding, and in Star’s mind, she thought if no one had the ability, then she can be able to defeat Mina and her Solarian Warriors as a last-ditch effort, and that no one including Mewmans and Monsters can use it for evil purposes anymore, but she also thought that while also doing that, her best friend Marco, who is now her boyfriend, may not be ever seen again. 

This is probably one of the more divisive opinions here, in “Cleaved” when Star ultimately decides to destroy the magic, and doing so would also mean the Magical High Commission (Rhombulous, Omnitraxus, Hekapoo) and most notably Glossaryck, and the First Born as well as most likely some spells in the wand would cease to exist. 

People compared Star’s actions to Toffee’s attempting during “The Battle for Mewni” when he attempted to get rid of the wand, when really, Toffee only wanted to destroy magic, not for the good of Mewni, but to get back at the Mewmans for the generations of prejudice against them (and to a lesser extent, Moon in particular) for severing his finger on his hand, saying that She fulfilled Toffee’s goal, but really, Star’s reason for doing it was completely different. 

This was considered a “controversial” aspect in the series because critics and fans thought it implied that Star intentionally caused a “Mass Genocide” and not just a Mass Genocide on Mewni but implied the entire multiverse in the show and that ideology somewhat alienated the fanbase after that and people were extremely upset about it. It was, in my opinion, based on misjudgment.

In my opinion, I don’t believe Star is a genocidal maniac, I’m sure the wasn’t the writers’ intention to imply that Star did something as barbaric just because she was angry, or that she’ll never see Marco again, which it’s just simply not true. It was more the lines like a “Sacrifice for the Greater Good” with the past Mewni Queens helping Star, Moon, Eclipsa, and Meteora helping her. It upsets me and it still does that some would think that, but this is the internet where you’re free to make an opinion. It just doesn’t mean I have to agree with it. 

It was meant to symbolize the end of the troubled history of the most particularly, the Age of  Monarchy and Magic in the Butterfly Family, and as far as we’re concerned, all of the Magic Spells were tied to Mewni and the Butterfly Family reign, and nowhere else in the Multiverse, and with the Former Queens who aren’t alive anymore, their souls could finally be in peace now that it’s over. 

Also, the scene where Star went back and left her family to be with Marco on Earth, but she sees Marco hasn’t left even after the portal to Earth closed. It symbolizes how much she cares about him and is willing to leave everything being just so that they can be together, and that even that without Magic that they belong together, so what happened was their love (and a last bit of magic) caused this blue portal to surround them causing them to go back to their respective dimensions. 

After they destroyed the Magic, Star is back on Mewni with her mother, Moon finding her. The Monsters were free from the Solarian Warriors, and Mina was defeated. Although Moon tried to help her out, she still didn’t learn her ways after that, and said that there will always be people like her who think differently from one another, and escaped into the woods. What I think was an important message learned while watching the series, is that no matter how hard you try, whether in fiction or non-fiction, racism and prejudice will always exist. 

After that, Moon apologized to Star for everything that she’s done and Star and Eclipsa ultimately decide to forgive her, which if I’m gonna be a bit biased here, that aspect is really why I loved “Cleaved” the way it did because Moon as a character means so much and it shows that someone who seems to be a stuck-up, uptight, queen at the beginning of the series who’s had issues with monsters can have a change of heart at the end. Star and Moon although not always seeing eye to eye, still deeply love each other and I couldn’t have it other any other way. 

I don’t think I could ever like the Series Finale is that wasn’t the case with Moon, even if the pacing was a bit fast in that matter.  

They also showed Kelly, Jorby, and Talon in their respective dimensions which to some may not find very satisfying considering they are now stuck in their own respective dimensions. 

Later on, it shows what happened to the Magical High Commission when Magic was destroyed and we see that they were only reduced to Inanimate objects like Omnitraxus which only his skull remains, and Rhombulous’ Crystal Shell and the two snakes he used for hands are just normal snakes, which shows that yes, they’re gone, but they’re not wiped from existence, although Hekapoo and Glossaryck’s remains were unknown.

Then in Mewni, we see a blue portal glowing in the air, similar to the one that Star and Marco created when they hugged each other in the Realm of Magic. Marco now in Earth recovering from being impaled from a Warnicorn, but now that Magic is gone, it was healed, and that’s when he also saw a blue portal.

That’s when Star and Marco race to the portal as it’s shrinking, and while Star did, Marco misses and there was a big explosion, devastated that Marco may never see her again, but nevertheless, he sees Star and they both see a new world among them where both Earth and Mewni are Cleaved Together, and they’re happy to see each other once again, knowing they’ll be forever happy thus concluding the series.

The definition of Cleaved means to split or divide or to adhere closely, stick, cling, or remain faithful to, or to put it simply: to take Something (or Someone) apart or bring them together, and that’s exactly what happened. Star thought the only way to solve her issue was to Destroy Magic and risk never seeing Marco ever again, which technically did, but their love eventually, caused their worlds to combine into one. So no, Star and Marco didn’t intentionally destroy magic just for the sake of being together with Marco, when it was actually the complete opposite of what happened. Again, she destroyed Magic so that no one could use it for harm anymore. It was meant to convey the idea that solving one problem, creates another and overall it created new beginnings for the characters. 

Star could have chosen to not go the Destroy the Magic route and Star, Eclipsa, Moon could have used their magic to try to defeat Mina, but Star didn’t want to take that risk, possibly towards the Monsters losing their lives. What I like about Star of how she evolved as a character is that she is willing to take risks in her life, for better or worse. Star only wanted to live a normal life as a Teenager and didn’t want to deal with the stress that came from her family’s history of Magic anymore. 

I know some people liked the Series Finale and the two characters Marco and Star being together at the end, while some didn’t really care for that particular aspect (Starco or wanted a different/no ship for Endgame), which is understandable, but that’s the kind of story creator, Daron Nefcy wanted to tell, even if the pacing felt a bit too quick, and unfortunately some critiques didn’t really catch on to that kind of storytelling. Nefcy stated that the would love to do more with Star if Disney ever decided to make a continuation of the series in some form. 

Then there’s the idea that Earth and Mewni cleaved together being a bad thing, because of the supposed consequences it may bring like “Will Humans respond kindly or unkindly to the Monsters from Mewni?”, “Will society crumble in this new world?”, “Will Humans try to retaliate against the Monsters?” Basically, having a pessimistic approach to this, and while it’s not an issue to have this kind of conception, I think it’s mostly just overthinking it a bit too much, which again, rubbed some people the wrong way. I guess there’s some questions we’ll never have an answer to. 

Obviously, if you’re looking at this from a realistic point of view then yes, you would have some questions regarding that issue, but in Star’s world, it’s not particularly meant to be taken all that seriously. It’s only a fictional cartoon, not everything has to make complete sense. 

They’ve even hinted at the idea that Earth and Mewni would be cleaved as far back as Season 2 in the episode “Into the Wand”. 

Again, the idea of Star creating a multiverse Genocide spanning the entire multiverse in the show is absolutely ridiculous, as the series never implied it one bit near the end of the series, we can see lots of other Mythical Creatures still exist like the Dragon Cycles still there, Warnicorns, Mermaids, Monsters, the Ponyheads, are there, the Laser Puppies are just regular puppies, meaning they haven’t completely vanished, again the Magical High Commission may no longer exist, but again they’re reduced to mostly inanimate objects.

I would be totally lying if I said “Cleaved” was the worst series finale ever, or that I absolutely loathe it, I’m more upset that I’m kind of in the vocal minority, though you have every right to agree or disagree. Were there some aspects in Season 4 or the series as a whole that I wished could be different? absolutely. You have to understand that no series is perfect no matter what you watch, I don’t care what anyone says, all they can do is try, The crew is aware of the criticism the finale got, and they’re not happy about it, the writers tried to do their best, and unfortunately, not everyone liked it A.K.A. they’re sorry if you weren’t satisfied with it. 

If you think “Cleaved” could have been longer or was rushed, it’s okay to think that, but if you want to make it Technical, the last four episodes of the series were all connected together starting from “Mama Star” all the way to “Cleaved”. So think of the Finale as one big 2-Hour Special similar to how the first four episodes of Season 3 was labeled as “The Battle for Mewni”

In conclusion, if you were happy with the series as a whole, then good for you, if you weren’t then I’m sorry to hear. Maybe try to look at the Series Finale episode differently if you weren’t happy, and take my thoughts' and opinions into consideration, and maybe you’ll see it in a different tune. This took nearly two months for me to type this, but I think it would be worth it in the long run. 

This show meant a lot to me in my late Teens going into my early adulthood, and I’m sure there people who still love it today, even with its shortcomings for generations to come. I can’t imagine living without it, and I’m sure others feel the same way too. This series, in my opinion, has some wonderful characters you can probably relate to like Star, Marco, Jackie, Janna, Moon, River,  Eclipsa, Ludo, Toffee, for example. They’re far from perfect and that’s exactly why I love them so much. 

I’m not saying your opinion on the Series Finale will change, I’m saying maybe don’t take it too seriously.  Maybe see it in a different light. After all, it’s only a fictional series. There’s nothing wrong in discussing and giving thoughts about it, but at the end of the day, it’s only a cartoon, they don’t have to be 100% realistic. Once again, I think Star vs. the Forces of Evil is a charming series with fun, loving characters an interesting story, and important life lessons along the way. This is one series that will forever hold a special place in my heart.  

[yaimlight]

So I’m feeling a little melancholy today, a little bit dark and brooding and have started to get into the whole villain Deku thing so I have seen thinking what if?

(Mentions of blood, sex and suicide)

So imagine this, we go back to that fateful day in middle school and Katsuki knows he has gone to far this time but he is just so angry that Deku will not stop going on about becoming a hero and he needs him to stop. He regrets his words as soon as he said them but he can’t take them back because apologising would be weak of him and he is not weak god damnit.

Things go pretty much the same from there except Deku walks the other way so he doesn’t see Katsuki getting attacked by the villain. He doesn’t run to his friends rescue and he doesn’t inspire All Might to take action though he does come to Katsuki’s aid eventually, saving him because he is a hero and that’s what heroes do.

Katsuki gets home late that night, angry about the whole ordeal and feeling a little scared though he will never admit to that. He can still taste the slime in his mouth as it tried to force its way down his throat. His lungs still hurting from how he had struggled to breath. All he wants is blow something or maybe sleep but instead he is created with a frantic Mitsuki demanding to know if Deku was with him.

Already feeling agitated Katsuki angrily brushed her off, yelling about him having nothing to do with that nerd as he tries to head to his room, cursing the other teens existence. But Mitsuki will not let him go, saying that Inko has been on the phone worried sick because Deku hasn’t come home yet and isn’t answering her calls. Something inside of Katsuki goes cold, dread filling him as he fights against the panic he feels at the quirkless boy being out their on his own.

He doesn’t put up a fight when Mitsuki sends him off to look for the other teen whilst she goes to try and console a distraught Inko. Katsuki walked the streets, tracing his steps back and absentmindedly heading back towards the school because that had been the last place he had seen Deku. He shoves his unease down, instead convincing himself that the nerd had probably lost track of time in the library as he filled up his stupid notebooks. Katsuki promises that he will beat the ever loving shit out of him for worrying Inko and making Katsuki come look for him.

He comes to a stop though as he rounds the corner of one of the school buildings, something crunching under his foot and he looks up to see a familiar chard note book under his shoe, the thing sat in a dark puddle of something. When he bends down to pick it up the thing drips, the sound of the little splashes loud in the strangely silent night. When he flips it over he finds All Mights signature scrawled across the middle pages but there stained red.

His panic begins to rise, his hands sweating and hart thumping in his chest. He feels sick with it, his whole body trembling as he slowly lifts his head up, his eyes following the flow of red until they land on the lifeless body laying broken and unmoving amongst the pool of red.

The book slips from his fingers, his feet slipping in the blood as he scrambled to get to the other boy, falling to his knees next to him. He roles the boy over only to recoil as he finds dull and empty green eyes staring back at him. He begs for the other to be okay, tears rolling down his cheeks as he fumbles with his phone, calling an ambulance. He cradles the smaller boy to him, sobbing and apologising for everything and promising to be better if he just wakes up.

The paramedics trie to prise him off of Deku when they arrive but Katsuki fights tooth and nail, screaming and shouting, refusing to leave him until finally they have to nock him out so they can get to Deku. When he comes to he is in a hospital bed, feeling like shit and his clothes still covered in the other boys blood. His mum is waiting for him, eyes rimed red and he just knows. Katsuki brakes down, curling in on himself and Mitsuki hugs him tightly, trying to sooth her son and not knowing that Katsuki is blaming himself for what has happened. This is all his fault, he knows that for sure.

He becomes withdrawn after that, avoiding everyone and their whispered comments. He still strives to be a hero, vowing to become number one in Deku’s honour and fight for the boys ideals, promising to keep his memory alive. He has nightmares almost every night to start with, the blood splattered and lifeless face blaming Katsuki as much he does himself.

Fast forward three years and Katsuki awakens with a start, body slick with sweat and the remnants of his nightmare still clinging to him. He crawls from his bed, stumbling over to his desk and grabbing a bottle of water that he drinks from deeply as he tries to calm his racing heat. Then he hears it, that quiet little voice asking him what’s wrong and he knows it’s still not over, that he’s still trapped in his nightmare. He turns to find little 3 year old Deku sat on his bed, bright green eyes looking back at him with concern and Katsuki breaks. His eyes slam shut as a pathetic cloaked of sob escapes from between his lips. He crops at his top over his aching heart, his whole body trembling as he sinks to the floor.

He doesn’t hear movement but he feels tiny hands on his face wiping away his tears and that hurts even more. That tiny voice sais his name, the one Deku gave him and he can’t stop himself from pulling the child to him, burying his face in his tiny neck as he just sobs.

Something shifts, the body in this arms changing until larger hands are patting at Katsuki’s head, a much deeper voice shushing him and promising that everything is okay that Katsuki is okay. All the blonde can do is squeeze tighter at the young team that’s now sat on his lap, chanting how sorry he is into the collar of their middle school uniform.

Finally when the tears have stopped and Deku had fallen silent Katsuki pulls back finding the version of Deku that he remembers so clearly from middle school. His eyes are bright, his smile wide and his freckled cheeks covered in a light blush. He is exactly the same apart from the large red gash over his forehead that was from where he had hit the pavement and his skull had split open.

He talks excitedly, his words pouring from his mouth almost to quickly for Katsuki to understand but he had grown up listening to this and could probably understand more of his mumbling a that the other boy had known. He asks Katsuki about his friends and about graduation. They talk about what will come after and the angency he will be going to. At some point they move to the bed, Katsuki lying on his back whilst Deku snuggles up to his side.

It feels right having him there and Katsuki had realised years ago that this was probably what he had wanted all along but had been to scared of what that would mean. It felt like hours he listened to Deku going on about his class mates and how amazing Katsuki is and his heart brakes with every word because he knows that Deku should be there with him, excited about his own future in hero support or something back Katsuki had taken that from him with his cruel words.

He doesn’t realise that he had started to cry again, silent tears rolling down his cheeks until Deku is giving above him, that concerned look back in his eyes. He tells Katsuki not to cry, someone as strong and pretty as him shouldn’t cry before he leans down and starts kissing along the tear tracks on his cheeks. When Katsuki doesn’t do anything to stop him Deku pulls back, giving the blonde a quizzical look before slowly leaning back down and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

Katsuki turns his head away in shame, telling the young that he can’t, it’s wrong, he’s a child. Deku smiles reassuringly at him, calling Katsuki a good man a true hero and then his form shifts, the boy getting olde right before his eyes. He fills out, muscles getting bigger, his boyish cheeks melting away and getting sharper. His curly hair gets longer and wilder, the gash closing and forming a scar that is hidden mostly by his hair. His large and rough hands cup Katsuki’s cheeks and asks if this is better and the blonde is lost for words.

Above him hovers Deku as he should be if he had lived, his eyes bright and in a U.A uniform, his red tie way to short. It hurts seeing him like this, it all reminding him of the life he had helped snuff out. He can’t look any more, can’t bare to see what he helped to destroy so he surges up, eyes slamming closed and sealing his lips against the other teens in a desperate kiss.

Katsuki takes his time, kisses every inch of Deku and is nothing but gentle with him. Katsuki treats him like he was glass, like he is a mirage that will disappear if he is to rough with him. Deku takes it all chanting out that childish nickname and it breaks Katsuki’s heart because in his nightmares is the only time he ever hears it now. He shuts him up with another kiss, this one a little bit harder as all his anger bubbles over. Not anger at Deku but anger at the person he was, the monster he is.

He makes love to Deku, slow and gentle. He apologises, begs forgiveness and Deku grants it because despite everything he is a good person, a kind soul and only he would forgive the person who had tormented him for years, who had been responsible for his death. When he climaxes he tells Deku he loves him, sobs it into the crock of his neck after they have come down. Deku holds him, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other stroking at his hair. I know Kacchan, I love you too, always have, always will is the reply he gets.

Deku tells him that Katsuki will be a great hero, the best there ever was. He tells Katsuki that he has always been his hero, the thing to aspire to. He was the symbol of victory and would become number one before he even knew it.

Katsuki drifts of to sleep in the other mans arms, Deku’s declaration of love ringing in his ears. He awakes with a start, sitting up in his bed and frantically looking for the other teen only to realise it had all been a dream, a nightmare and Katsuki crumbles. He curled in on himself, crying once more and gasping out his apology and love to the boy he had killed. He feels like scum, like the dirt of the earth and undeserving of the other teens love and praise no matter how face it had all been. He promises to do better, to be better and become the hero Deku always believed him to be.

Outside on the balcony Deku listens to the muffled cries of his childhood friend, a wistful smile on his lips. He gives himself a few moments, letting the other teens sorrow wash over him before jumping from the third floor window and landing soundlessly on the ground below.

Dabi is waiting for him, all smug smirks and cocky attitude. He asks if Deku got what he wanted and he nods enthusiastically, assuring him that Kacchan is ready. Dabi throws his arm over the smaller mans shoulder, leading him from the U.A grounds as they discuss the attack they will make on the graduation ceremony the next day. Dabi questions Deku’s admiration of Katsuki and he just gushes about how amazing that he was and that he going to be the greatest hero and he deserved to have the greatest villain, having realised long ago that he was never supposed to stand next to him as a equal, as a hero but opposit him as his rival.

So yeah. I’m thinking about actually doing something with this after I finish my current work but I’m not to sure.

[occasional-drabbles]

I’m Not Him - Chapter 5 - A BOTW Fic

So, this is the first really heavy chapter... Please let me know if there’s more I need to cover, and pay attention to the warnings!

Read the Fic on AO3 Here!

Quick Summery of the Fic: This is basically a ‘What If’ Fic. What if Link had actually died in BOTW, instead of being resurrected? The Hero would have to be reincarnated... into someone who isn’t Link. 

Chapter Warnings: Kibo sees a corpse, and has a panic attack

First  |  Previous | Next

“So I should be looking for a lake….” Kibo mumbled as he walked along the road, having stopped at a river after beating some bokoblins so that he could wash up. He hadn’t really had the chance to since leaving home, and between his black shirt in the sun and all the fighting, he needed a bath. 

He felt much better now though, having pulled his hair back up and put on his favorite red shirt. It was, at the very least, better than black in the sun. He felt more like himself at the very least. 

But now he’s working through the Great Plateau, following the path that Impa had described to him. He’d tracked his path on the map he brought with him, and saw he should be getting close. Hopefully. His legs are going to be so sore when he stops for the night. Speaking of which, it was already getting dark. He hopes he finds this shrine soon so that he can rest… Inside it would be best, because hopefully that means he’d be safe from monsters. Hopefully. 

Turns out that Lady Impa’s directions weren’t as precise as Kibo had been hoping, so he spent a few hours scouring the Great Plateau in the darkness, just hoping to avoid having to face any monsters tonight. He doesn’t have the energy for that.

Fortunately, by the time he found…something set into a stone wall, all he had had to deal with were a few Keese that he was able to take out with one arrow a piece. He needs to remember to look into getting more arrows… somehow. See if anyone in Kakariko would be willing to buy any of the things he’s collected… but that’s for later. 

Right now, he needs to figure out how to get inside the shrine. He walked up to the door and started to look for a switch or something, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t tell me there’s some sort of a key I need or something…” He mumbled, puffing his cheeks out as he looked for a switch or anything. 

Place your hand against the door

Kibo couldn’t help but jump when hearing her voice, since she’d been silent ever since he reached the Great Plateau. But he didn’t have a reason to doubt her yet, so he slowly reached out and placed his right hand against the door he was just barely able to pick out. Though, he almost yanked his hand right back off when part of it started to glow. It was three triangles making a larger triangle, with the one on the bottom right glowing the brightest gold. 

“Uhhhh Princes??” He asked, finally pulling his hand away as the door started to open for him, but he was distracted by staring at the back of his hand, the symbol still there but slowly fading. 

That is the Triforce of Courage… the Shrine of Resurrection is designed to be opened from the inside, however the power of the Triforce can also open it from the outside… You and I are the only ones who could open it from the outside right now.

“Oh…” He mumbled softly, the ‘triforce’ on his hand finally fading completely, even if its glow is still imprinted in his brain. He hesitated as he looked into the darkness, then looking away “Princess…? Are you alright? You sound… different.” He asked nervously, eyebrows furrowed in concern. She was more matter of fact than usual, but her presence in his mind was fainter… And he couldn’t tell who’s anxiety he was feeling, his or hers. 

It took a bit longer than he’d like for her to finally answer him. 

I do not like this place… However you need the Sheikah Slate… I just ask that you get the Slate and get out.

Well, that certainly didn’t help his nerves, even making his stomach twist into knots. “I’ll try.” Because he’s easily distracted. But with that the Princess left him alone, and he finally walked into the Shrine. 

Dropping down and landing in a puddle, he couldn’t help shivering a bit. “It’s cold in here…” He rubbed his arms to warm them up some as he proceeded forward, coming to another door not too long after and doing the same thing he had done before. Now that he was at least a little less focused on the visual aspect of what he was doing, he realized that the ‘triforce’ on his hand made it tingly. Enough so that once the second door was opening, he couldn’t help scratching where it was in hopes of alleviating the itchiness. 

It was slightly brighter in this room, lit by an unnatural blue light hanging over what looked kind of like a bed. He was drawn towards it, but noticed a similar but smaller light to his right, changing course to investigate it first. He hesitantly poked at it, squeaking when it began to glow brighter and move to offer up what he could only assume was the Sheikah Slate, based on the large glowing eye design on it. He slowly picked it off the pedestal, looking it over curiously before shifting his bag to put it in there. He could ask the Princess about it once away from the Shrine, since she’ll hopefully be more talkative later.

“Got the Slate, now to leave.” He told himself, trying to follow the Princess’s instructions. She knows more than him with this after all. However… he’s so curious about whatever is in the center of the room. Plus he’s still hoping to take shelter in the Shrine for the night. Might as well explore some, right?

So he slowly approached the bed in the middle, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end when he realized there was something, or, well, someone in the bed. It looked like they were asleep, honestly. But if the Shrine was sealed from the outside and it was that well hidden, how long had they been there?

Something in the back of his mind started to kick into gear, getting a sinking feeling in his gut as he took in all the scars on this person’s body… There’s no way…

“Is… Is that….” Kibo mumbled quietly, his voice trembling more than it has in years, his stomach deciding to do somersaults as he took a half step back. 

Link, his predecessor, the Hero before him with more training than he could dream of having, who fought to protect Zelda, who had died protecting her… was right here in front of Kibo. As a corpse. A corpse. 

Yeah, no. Kibo was not prepared for this, and realizes he really should have listened to the Princess…

Turning quickly and rushing out of the room to try and get as far away from the Shrine as possible, he nearly ran face first into the large boxes towards the entrance. 

He was trained, he was better than me. And he died. How am I going to survive?

Kibo barely made it out of the Shrine and stumbling towards the tree before his legs gave out and made him kneel to the ground, his breathing shaky and hitching as he tried to keep the meager meals he had managed to get in his system from leaving. 

“I can’t… I can’t do this… I-I…” He wasn’t sure who he was talking to, if anyone. He didn’t know what to do, or how to handle this. Sure, he knew that it was dangerous, Zelda had already told him that his predecessor had died during the Calamity. He knew that… but it was like it was only now hitting him, and it was hitting him hard. 

He could die. And that would be it. No more Kibo. No one would know what happened to him except for the Princess, and she’s stuck trying to contain Calamity Ganon. She’s already waited 100 years. She probably can’t wait too much longer. Especially if it takes another 100 years between his own death and whoever follows after him becoming old enough… So if he screws up, if he isn’t good enough and gets himself killed, everything the previous Champions did would be for nothing. 

-bo!

Kibo!

Kibo jumped at the shouting in his head, realizing his entire body was trembling and he was struggling to get enough air in his lungs. He didn’t know how long the Princess had been trying to get his attention, but it snapped him out of the train of thought he was spiraling down, and gave him a chance to try and catch his breath. He dug his fingers into the grass and dirt under his palms, which he’d placed on the ground to help him keep his balance despite still sitting on his knees. 

Please, take a deep breath. Focus on something you can feel.

The Princess’s voice seemed more strained than usual, but still soft. He did his best to follow her instructions, shutting his eyes to try and focus on his breathing. But that just let his imagination run wild again, so he focused on the grass underneath him. The moonlight reflecting off of the blades, and the cool breeze. It took a little while, but he eventually felt more in control of his body. He still wanted to get away though…

Slowly, Kibo stood up and readjusted his bag, making sure he still had everything. He looked down and focused more on his feet and where he was walking, just focusing on getting back to Kakariko. He doesn’t want to be here any more. 

He could feel the Princess still in his mind, creating a tense silence. She wanted to say something, but wasn’t. Looks like it’s up to him to break the ice. “I… I know you told me not to… but now I know why you were so anxious about this place…”

I only wish you did not have to see that… But now you understand why I did not want to rush you, why I wanted you to prepare as much as possible… I do not want to lose someone else to this quest…

Kibo wasn’t really sure how to react… Might as well match honesty with honesty. “I can’t make promises… I know that I am nothing like him… but I swear I’ll do my best to help you. So you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

He wasn’t really expecting a response, so he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get one. Just the silence that came when she was there but not ‘speaking’, but he knows she heard and understood. It was enough for them to fall into the closest thing to a comfortable silence they can manage after all of that. And right now, Kibo appreciates the silence.

[annabethsgodcomplex]

Hunters of Artemis Adventures: Two Hunters, An Empousa and a McDonald’s Happy Meal

(So I decided to go ahead with the Hunters of Artemis stories thing I was going to do. I present to you my first one. Hope you guys like it)

‘McDonald’s’ Bella said, while pulling her hair back into a braid.

‘Isy, that’s an incredibly random way to start a conversation.’ her friend Maria replied. ‘Would you mind elaborating?’

‘I was thinking that we should go to McDonald’s.’

‘Why?’

‘Normal, non-death related purposes?’

Maria sighed. ‘Like those deer bones we were going to leave behind and you tried to hide from me?’

‘No idea what you’re talking about’, the daughter of Hades grinned cheekily. ‘But the McDonald’s may be for death related purposes. Just a little bit…’

‘Do continue.’

‘You know how we visited Camp Half-Blood the other day and I was talking to my brother Nico?’

‘Half-brother.’

‘Same thing. Anyway, he was telling me how to summon the dead with Happy Meals.’

‘Let me guess, you want to try it. And you want me to help.’

‘Correct. If you help you can choose who I summon.’

‘How could I say no to such a tempting offer?’

‘Is that a yes?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ll just grab my weapons and some mortal money and we can head off.’

‘Sounds good.’

Bella darted off to her tent and picked up her bow, her hunting knife and an axe she found in one of the trees and decided to keep. ‘I’m back!’ she called out to her friend.

‘What’s with the armoury?’ Maria giggled. ‘You planning a fight?’

‘Nah. Just wanna be prepared.’

‘Fair enough.’ Maria fiddled with the chopsticks she wore in her hair. They had been a present from her older brother in Italy before she’d joined the hunt in the renaissance period. They were all she had left of her brother other than memories. Bella slung her bow over her back and stashed her hunting knife in her belt. She struggled to find a place for the axe. Maria giggled watching her friend try to stuff it in various places before turning it into a silver brooch with a symbol of Hades on it.

‘Nice trick, how did you do that?’

‘Like my sister Hazel, I have control over precious metals. I prefer my death related powers but the metals thing always helps in a pinch. Let’s Naruto run to McDonald’s!’

‘Naruto… run?’

‘Right sorry. I keep forgetting you’re not from this century. It’s an anime thing. Watch me.’

‘Ok.’ Maria said, confusion etched on her features. Bella ran, leaning forward with her arms straight out behind her torso. ‘Now you try Mari!’ Hesitantly, Maria mimicked her friend’s actions as the ran through the woods. They ran to the edge of the woods and stopped. ‘So was that supposed to achieve something?’ Maria asked.

‘Other than fun? Not really. It’s just more fun than normal running.’

‘It’s certainly… interesting. I guess.’

‘You loved it.’

‘I didn’t hate it.’

‘Good enough.’ A cheeky grin took over her features, a glint of danger in her eye. As much as her friend liked to feign a cheeky sort of cheerfulness, Maria knew there was a certain darkness within. Bella had once confessed that she felt a constant pull to do something terrible. She scared even herself. She had been bullied relentlessly by a pack of boys in the mortal world and she joined the Hunt to get away from them and what she’d done. She’d found a new family in the Hunters of Artemis but Maria worried her friend’s darkness might come back if she could no longer control it. Maria pushed the thought out of her mind. She trusted her friend could control herself. Maria grinned back.

They headed into the shop. It wasn’t too busy, they had beat the lunch time rush but the few people in there didn’t seem like much to worry about. An elderly couple ate at a table in the far corner, some teen troublemakers who must have been ditching school hung around together casting glances in their directions before Bella pulled out her hunting knife and glared at them. ‘Bella!’ she hissed. ‘Put that thing away. We don’t need the police getting involved. We’re already sneaking away from camp. Imagine what would happen if we had to be escorted back in handcuffs!’

‘Ok, ok. But did you see the way they looked at us? Men. Ugh.’

‘True’ Maria giggled. ‘But they’ll have got the picture now thanks to you and your knives.’

‘You say the word ‘knives’ like it’s a bad thing.’

‘Well consider bringing knives out in public is considered a threat, it probably is a bad thing.’

‘Touché’

Maria rolled her eyes and went up to the counter to order. ‘Stay here and don’t cause trouble’ she told her friend.

‘No promises’. As Maria went to order, Bella noticed a young girl, around the age of 5 or 6, staring at them intently. She had a Monster High-Style fanged lipstick accessory in her hair. The girl’s gaze was piercing and sent shivers up her spine. There was something off about her and she didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out what it was. When their food was ready, Bella said to Maria, ‘There is a creepy girl staring at me and I don’t like it.’

‘You’ll live.’

‘Look at her! She’s creeping me out. I think she might be a monster.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure.’

‘Then let’s get out of here before we get confirmation of that. Lady Artemis will be worried if she finds out that we’re missing and it’ll be worse if we come back dead. You know how she is.’

‘Yeah. I don’t want to get a lecture.’

They left the store and the girl followed. They quickly realized they weren’t going to get out of there without a fight. ‘Maria. Get your weapons ready. We’ll most likely need to fight our way out of here.’ Maria nodded. ‘Need a weapon Mari?’ her friend asked. ‘I brought 3.’

‘No. I’m good milady.’ She pulled the chopsticks out of her hair and pretended to rearrange her dark curls into a neater updo.

‘Excuse me. I’ve lost my mummy and I need help.’ A child’s voice called out. They turned around and saw the little girl. Instead of looking lost or worried, she was smirking and a sadistic light flared in her brown eyes. The smirk turned into a fanged grin. Her voice changed from child-like to demonic. Maria held her chopsticks in and ‘x’ position and they morphed into long swords. Bella on the other hand was having a crisis. ‘Mari which weapon should I use. It’s so hard to pick!’

‘Use your bow, it will give you a better range.’

‘Good idea.’ Bella unslung her bow and loaded it with an arrow. ‘Bring it on Empousa! Fight me like a woman! Or are you scared enough to fight like a man?’

‘Good one.’

‘Thanks milady’ she replied with a mock bow.

Unbeknownst to the girls and the Empousa, Artemis had appeared at a safe distance. She was prohibited from intervening unless necessary by the ancient laws.

‘Well, well, well.’ The Empousa snarled. ‘Let’s see how your so-called immortality holds up against me. I heard you can still die in battle. I’ve always wanted to hear the screams of a dying huntress being ripped to shreds by my talons.’

‘Oh bring it on! I haven’t had a good workout in centuries!’ Maria called out. ‘This is your last chance to turn back.’

‘You talk a big game huntresses. You amuse me.’

‘We’re used to big game. It’s what we do’

‘Your bark seems worse than your bite, Empousa.’ Bella chimed in. ‘Oh wait. That’s for dogs! You’re like what? One quarter donkey?’

‘And 50% chicken it seems.’ Maria smirked, preparing to strike.

‘Okay Maria. On three. You take one side, I’ll take the other.’

Maria nodded. ‘One…two…three!’

‘I normally go for men’, the Empousa growled, growing impatient with the smack talk. ‘But I must say ladies, you’ve earned your deaths as much as them’

A dangerous glint in her eye, Bella snarled. ‘We’re nothing like men!’

‘You just won a free trip to Tartarus Resort!’ Maria taunted. She advanced with her swords, slashing savagely at the Empousa. ‘Nice one Maria!’ Bella called encouragingly, firing arrows at the weakest points on the monster and avoiding its bronze leg. ‘How’s it looking? You got her other side covered Mari? I’m almost out of arrows and she’s still breathing.’ Maria slashes at the Empousa’s donkey leg, crippling it. ‘I’m ok!’ Maria called back, dodging the monster’s attacks and slashing her in several places. She chops the monster’s hand off and calls to her friend ‘Isy. End her! Now!’

Bella stashed away her bow and brought out her hunting knife. She lunged at the monster’s heart, landing a fatal blow that causes the monster to disintegrate into dust. Maria’s swords turn back into her signature chopsticks as she places them in her hair. ‘Good job kiddo.’ She smiles. Panting, Bella turns around. ‘You too milady. You were quite impressive out there. We should get back to camp before anyone notices we’re missing and starts to worry.’

‘We’ve only been gone for a little over an hour.’ Maria pointed out.

‘That may be so, but I’m incredibly noisy and it won’t take long for them to figure out why the Camp is awfully quiet.’ She retorted, flashing her friend a cheeky grin.’

‘Very true.’ Maria laughed. They turn to head back to camp after picking up their bag of food and spot Artemis. ‘Oh. Hello milady.’ She said with a curtsey.

‘Hi milady,’ Bella said awkwardly, attempting to look innocent. ‘How’s the… weather?’

Maria laughed at her friend’s attempt at innocence.

‘Where have you two been?’ Artemis fretted. ‘I was worried sick when I couldn’t find you!’

Maria attempted to explain the situation. ‘My apologies milady. We were just…’

‘Just what?’ Artemis countered. ‘No note. Bows gone! You could have died at the hands of that Empousa! Or worse men could have kidnapped you!’ They all shuddered at the word men.

‘In our defence milady. That wouldn’t have been likely for us but you’re right I suppose.’ Maria admitted.

‘Regardless of if it could have happened or not, I had no idea where the two of you were!’ They started off back to camp, Artemis chastising them.

‘So,’ Bella piped up. ‘Do we get a punishment or is this a first offence sorta thing?’

Maria facepalmed at her friend’s bluntness. Artemis cracked a smile. ‘No my dears. No punishment except for making me worried out of my mind.’

‘Milady.’ Bella said softly. ‘You worry too much. We’re very capable and you have trained us well.’

‘I know my dears. I just worry for you. You and the other Hunters are the daughters I will never be able to have.’

‘I understand milady.’ Maria replied. ‘But we know how to take care of ourselves. You saw that.’

‘I guess you’re right but I don’t have to like it.’ Artemis allowed. ‘Now I’ve changed my mind about not giving you a punishment. You are so cleaning up after the campfire tonight. But if you’re lucky, Thalia might pitch in to help the both of you.’ They all shared a laugh as they made their way back to camp, the sun starting to set behind them.  

[demigodsanswer]

Do you have any headcanons about Chris to go along with those last ones of Clarisse? How did he recover after TLO?

In the three weeks that Clarisse is not at camp following the war, rumors and conspiracy theories about his knowledge and involvement with Silena begin to circulate. 

People hypothesized that he was also a spy, and that they were working together. That Clarisse knew the whole time, and was either also on their side, or chose not to sell them out. Or that she was being manipulated by both of them in order for them to stay on camp’s good side. That Clarisse had left camp after the war either to escape retribution for war crime or to escape humiliation at being played. 

None of these were true, and Chris had told camp everything he knew about Luke’s army. 

Recovering from TLO was actually, in many ways, easier than recovering from TBotL, even though he hadn’t fought in the battle of the Labyrinth. He was healed soon after the battle ended, only to learn that Clarisse had spent a year trying to heal him out of sheer kindness, and two of his best friends had been killed as a direct result of a successful iteration of the mission he had been sent on. 

He blames himself much more for Castor and Lee’s deaths. While losing Beckendorf and Silena was not easy for him, he did not hold himself culpable in their deaths, really, in the same way that Clarisse blamed herself for Silena’s death and Silena had blamed herself for Beck’s death. 

He does grapple with these questions of heroism that Clarisse deals with, but, for him (as he was never someone who really desired traditional hero things anyway), a lot of that grappling is more centered on how to move on past these events (not so much how do I reform my identity after all of this, which is much more what the question is for Clarisse.) 

Ultimately, the three of them (him, Clarisse, and Pollux) realize that all they can do is step away from that life as much as they can. They can’t move on from these traumas and still try and achieve heroism. Clarisse tried pretty much constantly between the Sea of Monsters and the Battle of Manhattan, and it only got her more and more hurt. Their only choices were to keep fighting until they achieved some kind of glory in death (not what they want) or to separate themselves from that life as much as they can, resulting in a change from wanting their life to be full of glory to wanting their life to be long. 

As someone who had never really cared for glory and had never been a particularly strong demigod, it’s not hard for Chris to make this change in himself, but it is very hard for him to see Clarisse go through it. At first he thinks it just empathy - his partner is struggling emotionally, and he doesn’t know how to help - but he soon realizes that it seems to be deeper than that. 

It isn’t until years later when he sees The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi that he actually understands why that was hard. 

Chris pretty much created an instant attachment to Finn as a character - he was a character who was fighting for a side that didn’t care much for the humanity of their soldiers or the people who they fought. Finn rejects that dehumanizing and proves to be instantly affected by his friend dying in front of him (separate headcanon, but Chris does end up getting the storm trooper helmet with the bloody hand print tattooed on his shoulder). Even though he leaves the First Order, though, he does not have any initial interest in joining the Resistance. 

The Titan Army and their recruitment of demigods certainly had a little more complexity behind it than the Star Wars n*zi allegory, but the Titan army did prove not to care about the demigods they killed on either side. The fact that they left Chris to die in the labyrinth without care is proof of that. The fact that they actively killed demigods on the god’s side was proof of that. Still, the gods didn’t care for them much either. When Chris was healed, he still had a pretty ambivalent stance towards the war as a whole. 

I’ve written this before, but essentially, he told Clarisse that he isn’t fighting for the Titans or the Gods, but he’s fighting for her. 

Over the year before the war, though, that starts to change. Her passion, care, and bravery really begin to inspire loyalty in him. Not to the gods, but to the other demigods. He starts to lose that sense of selfishness, and instead develops (or redevelops) an intense empathy and love for camp and the demigods (on both sides). 

This is why he spends so much time trying to talk her out of her choice to not join the war. Because it was her in the first place who had dragged his selfish ass kicking and screaming out of faux-neutrality and into actually caring about other demigods. 

She had even called him on this a few months before the war: “You can’t really be neutral in this, you know. you said you left the Titan army because you didn’t think they actually cared about the demigods they recruited, they just capitalized on their sadness. But there are demigods in that army still and in this one who are going to be killed soon. Are you really going to pretend like you defected out of a sense of obligation to all of them, but then turn around it not care about any demigods except the one who saved your ass?” 

Clarisse was the one who inspired disloyalty in the Titans, but also loyalty to, if not the gods, then at least to camp. (”That’s how we’re going to win. Not by killing what we hate, but saving what we love” /// “There is some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.) 

So seeing her switch from that to someone burnt out and tired of it all was really hard. So much of what he had loved about her was her passion and bravery, and the ways in which those qualities had changed him. Seeing her lose those qualities (that coupled with him no longer being at camp) did put stress on their relationship. 

Although he’d always say that the half-year where they were broken up was one of the worst times of his life, he does, in hindsight, think it was a good thing. In those months without he, he was able to work on himself and grow as an individual, and realize that he had been imagining her as more than a person. She wasn’t Clarisse, my girlfriend, a person with these good and bad traits. She had become a symbol for something so much bigger than herself that she could never maintain. 

If they had tried to stay together when there was even more distance between them, their relationship likely would have exploded and never recovered. Instead, though, they are able to grow apart for a while, and come back together much stronger. 

(all that being said, though, his favorite Star Wars characters are still Finn and Rose [and Poe], and, gun to his head, he will tell you his favorite movie is The Force Awakens. But do not ask him about his thoughts on The Rise of Skywalker or the trilogy as a whole unless you are prepared for a very long, very nerdy conversation.) 

[project-ohagi]

Isaac “Zack” Foster x Reader {Satsuriku No Tenshi}

Doll/Puppet, Dissection.

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Since the advent of your maturity, a profound and overriding sense of infatuation had blossomed, yet it wasn't for the usual suspects - teachers, peers, cousins...No, this all-consuming emotion, poisonous and blackened to its very core, was, oddly enough, directed at a child serial killer. Although, about a decade in the making, you figured that the offender wouldn't exactly be pre-pubescent any longer. This seeped into your imagination, intertwining it with severed demon limbs, or forbidding scarlet thread. It thrilled you, perhaps more than was healthy, but your heart just couldn't help the fascination, the intoxicating allure of the entire situation. After all, questions such as 'What drives a child to murder?' permeated your brain constantly, for they were simply beyond human comprehension. True responses, whether through psychosomatic research or basic interrogation, bore little real fruits. The mind of a murderer, however horrifying and depraved, still demanded thorough investigation.

Isaac Foster was hardly an exception, and yet for years, nobody had developed an understanding as to his location. This unfortunate fact wouldn't ring forever, though, as lady luck appeared to favour both you and your research. The moment in which the killer, Foster, paraded forth from within the shadow of a burning building, cradling a young girl in his arms, was recorded and played on repeat for your benefit. Questioning from law enforcement was methodical, yet Isaac Foster never once caved, not truly, despite what they might have you believe.

The bandage-wrapped dreamboat clicked his tongue, signalling his intense displeasure at the questions concerning the young girl, Rachel Gardner. From behind the two-way mirror, you observed and noted down his behaviour patterns, his posture, his words (how he spoke and what, precisely, he said), and anything else of personal interest. Your heart commanded the scribbling of tiny hearts on the page, alongside quirky drawings of a possible future life together. You, of course, understood the need for such a homicidal maniac to be separated from his body, but you desperately wanted to be the one who ended him. If he couldn't remain essentially conjoined at your hip in life, then he would most certainly in death. A simple excuse would likely suffice: you were absolutely appalled at the treatment of his previous victims, and the most recent, almost-victim, Miss Gardner.

"Alright, Isaac." One of the policemen, Arthur, began. "Before the trial, we have a criminal psychologist here, who would be quite happy to study you. What do you say?"

A sigh of contempt passed his lips. "I told ya, my name's Zack, and I don't think I have much of a choice."

Arthur laughed, rather heartily. "And all my sources said you lacked common sense, as well as intelligence."

"Whatever, gramps. Just bring this guy in here, would ya?" Another sigh echoed off the walls, sending the most wonderfully warm shivers rocketing through your body.

An officer insisted on the utmost security, and he intended to remain in the interrogation room, with you and the killer. This really wouldn't do, however, because capture was only a viable option later, when all Zack's screams and cries were lost to history. Nearly-convicted murderer though he may have been, the truly deranged mind, bubbling away in a cauldron of wicked schemes and bloody torture, was your very own. With the sternness to rival a military commander, you dismissed the officer. Zack's lips parted slightly, as you slid into the room. Those gorgeously-asymmetrical gemstones, just above an adorable little bandaged nose, offered a glimmer of astonishment, maybe (dare you say) even curiosity. The snowy paper obscured his cheeks completely, but he was definitely blushing; a crimson hue manifested on his ears, which you found incredible.

Choosing a seat directly opposite the drop-dead handsome serial killer, you reached out a hand for him to shake. Upon realising that this gesture was unfamiliar, you retracted your hand. "My name is (Y/n) (L/n). It's nice to meet you..."

"Zack. It's just Zack." He replied, apparently refusing to acknowledge the sloppily-concealed admiration in your eyes.

"Okay then, Zack. Tell me, when and why did you start killing? Did it possess any element of fun, or was it simply out of revenge, or spite?" Notebook in hand, you posed the first set of questions.

For a moment, it seemed as though he would decline to answer. "I started...well, it was 'cause of the orphanage."

"The orphanage?" You prompted, when Zack failed to continue his sentence.

Like a bursting dam, water free-flowing and chaos-wreaking, Zack's tongue released all his repressed emotions, all the knowledge, all the agony. In a matter of minutes, each piece of valuable information (that which you had yearned for, almost since conception) was written so beautifully on your paper. The sudden urge to allow your crystal tears to bleed the words arose, but for the sake of your master plan's survival, you swiftly pounded it into ash. The less-than-innocent, pure-hearted Zack, for all his primal instincts, couldn't have possibly guessed what you had veiled within that notebook. Two scalpels were buried compactly, inside a hollowed-out section of the book. These would issue Zack's most grievous punishment, and hopefully, his worst nightmare.

The ease with which you were able to progress, was due in large part to the handcuffs adorning Zack's wrists, pinning him to the table. Before the complimentary three or so seconds Zack would normally permit a victim were up, one of the scalpels was protruding forth from his chest. A surge of blood erupted from his mouth. Zack was in pain, and you relished every last second.

"What...the...hell?!" Anger swelled in his voice, yet the words sounded crackled, sputtered, as he attempted to speak through the bleeding.

Without leaving him a moment's respite, you once more plunged the scalpel inside, deeper and with increased ferocity. Zack's entire figure trembled, although he wasn't afraid. The handcuffs appeared close to losing their grip on the table, so, to cover your bases, you quickly grabbed the second scalpel. Finding purchase in a vital - his trachea - you dragged both scalpels down, ripping open his flesh in the process. It was the most amazing sight you had ever witnessed, and it was flourishing, growing more beautiful by the second. Zack stopped struggling after another few lacerations, and the puncturing of both lungs. Now, there wasn't even a sliver of oxygen for the bloodthirsty monster. He was nothing more than a doll, stiff, lifeless, and oh so handsome. Cutting around the organs, you carefully removed his heart, lungs, pancreas, kidneys and liver, refusing to bother with the rest.

Dwelling within the warmth of your palm, Zack's silent heart almost seemed to shiver. You placed his blood-soaked organs on the table. You found some suitable replacements, in old, scrunched-up papers. Drawing out a needle and thread from your pocket, you began stitching his gaping wounds closed, although the crimson liquid dripping from your hands made this task a little difficult. The zig-zag pattern looked lovely when completed, and you again stepped back to admire the scene. Zack's life-force had ceased to exist; his soul had vacated this world. Gently, you lifted up his chin. A chaste kiss was planted on his lips - a symbol of your undying affections. You lolled his head back and forth, moved his arms in all directions, squished his mouth and even removed some of his bandages, to unearth what had been hidden from you.

Ah, what beauty, what grace; such an angelic little doll.

[maverick-werewolf]

Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends Preview - Story 6, “Troubled Waters”

Interior illustration from The Hunt Never Ends story, “Troubled Waters”

We’re almost there - the book releases one week from today!

I am a very special kind of stressed, lemme tell you.

This preview is of the final story in the story collection and my personal favorite: “Troubled Waters.” If you didn’t know, this is a preview for my upcoming story collection, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends. It’s a book, but it’s something in-between a novel and a short story collection.

Each story in the book is individual and stands on its own, but they also go in order and build upon each other. So I’m not sure if one should really call it a novel, but it’s also different than just unrelated short stories. It bridges the gap between the two mediums.

Anyway, here’s another preview - enjoy!

For more info on the book itself, you can also check out this post. Also be sure to check out the Hunt Never Ends tag for a whole lot more book previews!

And remember - Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends is available for preorder (digital only; physical available on release date) on Amazon.com!

Pre-Order Link

Please note that, while the ebook is now available for preorder, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends will also be available in paperback on October 30 from the same Amazon listing! Paperbacks cannot be preordered using Amazon’s system, however.

Be sure to check back October 30 for the physical (paperback) edition!

If you’re interested in purchasing the book digitally, you can now pre-order it right here and have it immediately on October 30!

(Paperback edition will be available on Amazon on October 30)

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There were a lot of things Caiden knew how to do. Clean a sword. Maintain a bow or a crossbow, even customize the latter almost beyond recognition. Make his own arrows or bolts. Investigate a crime scene. Bandage a wound, make a tourniquet, brew a potion, hunt, forage, track, forge his own tools or weapons, carve wood, build houses or fortifications, command an army, cook meals…

But one thing he didn’t know how to do was read. And it pissed him off.

The beds in Castle Greywatch weren’t much. Some straw, changed daily, for a mattress, and some sackcloth to cover it. Any Venatori better off liked to buy their own beds, but Caiden wasn’t exactly drowning in coin. Following the dullahan encounter on Samhain, Kiya had given him a feather pillow as thanks – he didn’t want to think it had belonged to Relgar, but it probably had – and that was the nicest part of his sleeping arrangement in the castle.

He shifted his back against that pillow, currently squashed between him and the shoddy headboard and struggling to retain any fluffiness as a result. He tried to focus. Focus, he tended to be good at, but staring at the book in his hand almost made him wonder. It was a much smaller bestiary than the one Gwen had been given by Illikon, with a likewise smaller amount of illustrations.

If he had any sense, he would have just asked Gwen for help with reading. But his dignity – or maybe his stubbornness, or both – had long since thrown that idea out. He had all day to struggle with this, unless something came up. So, he reached to the nightstand beside him for the bottle of whiskey there. If there was something Castle Greywatch did have, it was decent booze.

Not that it seemed to be helping right now. It made things a little fuzzier, maybe. Slightly dulled that deep, gnawing, empty pain inside him, but not enough.

After they left Illikon, that feeling had grown louder, rowdier – tried to make itself more known. Whatever it was found claws to dig into his spine, using them to reach his skull. There, it chewed into him, left seeds of growing frustration – restless anger he couldn’t seem to muzzle. Any unwanted feelings of loneliness, of being lost, only got worse. A pulling, a need, telling him to do something.

After a few nights spent at Greywatch, it had grown to take a shape he almost recognized: hunger. Impossibly deep hunger that absolutely nothing satisfied.

That was why he couldn’t think. Not the drink. Not the page in front of him, covered in small symbols supposedly forming words, all of which made no sense. It was the smoldering flame in him turning into an empty inferno, and he had no idea how to put it out – or how to give it more fuel to burn.

Caiden’s eyes lost focus on the bestiary, staring at something inside rather than out. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, his grip on the book loosening, letting it droop.

Some tentative excitement came creeping up the stairs just outside the room. Caiden snapped the book shut and shoved it under his pillow, folding his arms and feeling an awful lot like a five-year-old trying to hide something embarrassing.

Except the bottle of whiskey. Couldn’t really hide that. Not like it mattered, anyway; she already knew it.

Gwen rounded the corner, peering into the room past the partially ajar door. She gave a few tentative knocks, eyes on him.

Caiden grunted. Yeah. Come in. You already have.

When she stepped into the room, Caiden instantly noted she was fully suited up, wearing her leather jerkin, belt of potions, weapons… Which for her, unlike him, was unusual to see when they were around the castle. Something was up.

Gwen paused, looked at him, followed his gaze to the far wall obviously in search of something interesting there, then at him again.

He met her stare evenly. “What?”

She shot the whiskey bottle a glance. “It’s a little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”

Caiden shrugged. Did that actually matter right now?

“Sure… Okay.” Cool worry filled the room, emanating from her, lapping jittery and mildly annoying waves against him. Gwen fumbled with a letter she’d been holding halfway behind her back. “Well, everyone in the great hall was talking missions, and a new one just came in. I snatched it up – thought it might be interesting. It’s not really like anything we’ve done before…”

An unnatural urge to snap at her, tell her to get on with it, rose in his throat and forced him to swallow it. Barely. It settled in his stomach, uncomfortable and heavy, and he tried to tell himself not to be a half-drunk asshole.

“What is it?” he prompted, voice coming out too flat as he struggled to find his usual patience.

That made Gwen screw up her brow at him more than a little, but she said, “There’s a village in the mountains not far from here – secluded little place called Norhaven. It doesn’t seem very noteworthy, except it has its own freshwater spring coming out of a mountain. But now a monster’s attacking them over the water, or that’s what they’re claiming. They say it’s been burning people, of all things, and it only attacks in the dark.”

For half a second, Caiden’s mind stuttered and ground to a halt. The first time he met something that only attacked in the dark, it had been his first monster hunt. It wasn’t something he liked recalling.

But he nodded.

“They… want us there as soon as possible,” Gwen added, almost tentatively. No, not almost. Definitely. Her nerves were frayed. She was worried about something, and it only seemed to get worse the longer she looked at him.

Caiden didn’t much like people worrying about him. He never had.

So he huffed, trying to figure out how to give what she might consider a ‘normal’ response. He stood and popped his neck in a short shock of painful relief. Even if it didn’t help the pinching headache he’d gotten from being bent over a book and trying to read for so long, it felt slightly better.

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow morning,” said Gwen, still eying him like he was sick.

He eyed her right back. “I’m fine.”

“Caiden, you’ve drunk way more than usual lately – and that’s already saying something – and way earlier in the day. You know how terrible that is for you, right? And besides that, you’re talking even less.”

Gwen frowned. Some kind of hurt came off her then, enough to make his insides almost start to shrivel.

“You can trust me,” she said at length. “If something’s wrong, talk to me about it. Wouldn’t you be the first one to tell me that you need to know if I have something going on, so it doesn’t jeopardize our mission?”

Caiden’s jaw tightened, hard, before he gave it permission. You know she’s right. Yeah, she was right, and he couldn’t tell her. Every word, every phrase that came to mind sounded dismissive. Uncaring, or at least untrusting.

But Gwen gave up fairly quickly, still wearing a frown. She nodded and said, “Okay. Want to leave in an hour or two? It isn’t far to ride. We’ll get there before sundown and we can find a place to sleep.”

Caiden nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll meet you by the stables.”

With that, Gwen turned and left – though not without throwing a quick, and decidedly worried, look back at him over her shoulder.

(More preview under the cut!)

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“These attacks,” said Gwen, “do they usually happen around the spring, under the trees?”

Asger nodded. “Mostly.”

“And has anyone been in that cave since it started?”

“Where the source is? Gods, no. Gotta have a deathwish to walk into the dark after this thing.”

“Yeah,” Caiden said, already walking around the trees and toward the cave. Behind him, Asger sputtered, while Gwen’s quiet footfalls and building, anxious excitement followed in his wake.

“Go on back to town and get some rest, Asger,” Gwen called back to him.

Caiden stopped before the mouth of the cave and squinted into it, reaching for a potion on his belt: one to enhance his senses. Beside him now, Gwen shifted, tension radiating from her like constant lightning.

“If you drink that and that thing burns you, it’ll really hurt,” she said. “I heard some Venatori pass out from pain if something catches them with one of those.”

Caiden huffed. “I didn’t last time. I won’t this time either.”

Just as he drained the potion bottle, Asger’s panting caught up with them again as he stopped by their side, drawing his bodkin dagger and holding it up in a shaking hand. Gwen blinked at him, and Caiden furrowed his brow.

Asger’s face slowly drained of color as he stared at Caiden’s eyes – a side-effect of the potion was his eyes glowing. Not much, just softly, but it tended to scare the hell out of the average person.

“You probably shouldn’t come with us,” Gwen offered slowly, like she was trying to calm Asger down from some fit of panic. “Especially since… your weapon there looks like something my partner might pick his teeth with.”

“This’s a finely-made dagger, I’ll have you know,” Asger blurted. “And I’m the watchman here, this is part of my job. Let’s go on then—”

He stepped forward, but Caiden snapped one hand out and got a firm grip on Asger’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m on point,” he said. “You shouldn’t come, but if you’re following us, then stay behind me. Gwen…”

“On it. I’ll cover your rear— I mean, the rear.” A blush quickly rose in her cheeks. “Tom ruined me,” Caiden faintly heard her mutter under her breath.

Caiden grunted. Then he turned and led the way.

Didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust, then to adapt, thanks to that potion. Faint moonlight spilling in let him see limestone walls slick with condensation and a violently gushing spring, churning the water on the far end of the cavern at the base of the wall. Spitting it out straight into the reservoir, the flow of it turning gentle by the time it left the cave.

Heavy mist hung in the air here, maybe kicked up by the water. But something didn’t seem right.

Then he realized why.

Fear washed down upon them like frigid rain – so much fear that, for half a second, it froze every muscle in Caiden’s body. His nerves pulled taut, ready to break and snap down on him like a whip, hard enough to leave a few more scars on his back. Hand shooting to his sword hilt in a white-knuckle grip, he drew in a sharp breath and fought the chill that ran fast up his spine and forced him to be afraid.

This wasn’t natural. Gwen, from the way she was suddenly fumbling with her gear, seemed to know it.

Asger, on the other hand, didn’t. He bellowed out a hoarse shout, nearly fell spinning around to face the exit, and ran for the cave mouth.

All around them, a shrill voice echoed, “Leave this place!”

It spoke the words very clearly – not the gibberish he’d been told about.

Everything happened at once. A rush of air ripped by him, trailing cold in its wake, like off the surface of the spring itself. Asger screamed, his heavy boots scuffing the stone as something made him stumble and fall. Caiden charged forward at a surging shadow, blade ready to swing.

And an arrow lodged itself in his upper arm with a hard lance of pain and a meaty thunk.

Caiden coughed out a grunt and staggered from the impact, the arrow locking up his sword arm and stopping him mid-strike. Whatever had come past him and attacked Asger seemed already gone, moving faster than he could even understand.

Gwen appeared beside him in an instant, hand on his uninjured left arm and sputtering apologies. “Caiden!? I – gods— I shouldn’t have tried to shoot it, it moved so fast—”

The cave around him was far from silent. Asger swore as he scrambled to his feet, Gwen kept on apologizing as she tried in vain to tug Caiden out of the cave until he, halfway in a stupor, finally staggered along after her.

Boots against stone. Grass under their feet, bright moonlight overhead. Plenty of pain in his right arm that twitched useless and limp at his side.

These sensations stayed, but something was missing.

He’d heard once that silence was golden. He had never understood what ‘silence’ entirely meant. This was the closest he’d ever come.

The whispers had stopped – the fleeting memories. All of it. The fear from the monster was gone – his, Asger’s, Gwen’s – he felt no terror from anyone, though they still looked afraid. Sounded afraid. Moved like it. But he couldn’t sense it. It didn’t invade his mind, twist into him, and try to make itself at home.

And he suddenly felt blind. Deaf. Neither of those things, yet both at once – because it was gone. A sense he had known for his entire life, something that was always there. Gone, no trace left. He felt dumb.

Caiden blinked. Furrowed his brow. His shoulders tensed, pulled against the arrow still biting deep into his arm, and made him wince.

What the hell was going on?

In the corner of his vision, he saw Gwen fumble for something in a pouch on her belt, only to draw out the shattered neck of a bottle. She swore and threw it aside, turning her attention to him instead as he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.

“Caiden – Caiden, hey, look at me!” Gwen grabbed the harness around his shoulders and tugged on it hard enough for his eyes to snap to her and stare. Her face was pale. “That arrow was poisoned. Okay? You’re probably woozy right now; it’s very fast-acting…”

“Gwen—”

She sucked in a hard breath and blurted, “Caiden if you say ‘I’m fine’ I swear to Athena I will punch you in the stomach.”

He paused and cocked his head at her, his mouth ever so slightly ajar.

“Listen,” she said, voice quivering and straining to sound strong, “the bottle for the antidote I had on me broke – I have more of it, but it’s in my saddlebag. We have to get you to the inn so we can get that arrow out and I can give you the antidote. Okay?”

“Just pull it out,” Caiden mumbled, his words coming out slurred.

“I’m not doing that, you don’t just suddenly pull an arrow out – there are procedures for this!”

One sharp tug on his uninjured arm later, and he was following her back down the mountain path, both of them led by a stumbling Asger. The watchman looked at a deep welt on his forearm, his flesh twisted and reddened – what was left of it. Most of it had burned off entirely. Asger swore more colorfully than the average sailor, wearing a deep grimace.

He separated from them with a few hurried words to Gwen – words Caiden should’ve heeded, but paid no attention to – and disappeared into a nearby home. Gwen kept leading the way, up the stairs and into the inn, still tugging on Caiden’s uninjured arm.

“By Jove!” the innkeeper shouted, starting up in an instant from where he’d been sitting in his quiet tavern.

He quickly started throwing questions, which Gwen just as quickly deflected. She mostly did that by dumping a handful of coins on the counter and asking for two rooms. All the while, Caiden leaned his uninjured arm on the nearest table and pulled in one deep breath after another.

Pain quickly found its way across his body, tightening every muscle and settling heavily in his chest, like having molten lead poured into his lungs. It didn’t leave him any room to breathe, and that didn’t leave him much room to think.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter four

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Warnings: cancer, sexual assault

Chapters 1 2 3

Not to be dramatic, but that dinner with Peter and May added twenty years to my lifespan. We laughed and talked all evening. After dessert, Peter walked me to my room like a proper gentleman.

“You really don’t have to walk me home. I live right across that hall.” I teased. I was glad he did though. I wanted to spend every minute I could with him. I never wanted this night to end.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure you got in okay. You never know what dangers can be lurking in a hallway. Henry could’ve been around here and you and your feet would’ve been defenseless. You think I could live with myself if something happened to you?” Peter reasoned. I laughed loudly and unlocked my door. I took my time unlocking, partially to extend our time together and partially to hide my massive blush.

“Thanks for dinner, Parker. I had a good time.” I said slowly. Was a flirting? Maybe a little. Peter licked his lips and rubbed his neck.

“I had a moderately alright time.” He said nonchalantly. I laughed and shoved him a little.

“Fine. I had an amazing time. We should do this again.” He said. The hope in his eyes knocked me out.

“Definitely. But at my place next time.” I said.

“Deal.” He stood there for a moment, just staring at me. I stared back. I could see pale freckles on his nose and around his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. The longer you look at Peter, the better he got.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Peter said finally. I sighed. Well I’ll be damned. Parting really is such sweet sorrow.

“Goodnight Peter.” I answered. We gave each other one more giggly smile before I closed the door, completely missing the victory dance Peter did in the hallway.

“Alright. You ate. Now it’s my turn. Let’s go eat some assholes.” Venom cheered. I grimaced.

“You couldn’t have phrased that in a worse way.” I commented.

“I mean, let’s go eat some men who are assholes.” Venom corrected herself.

“Alright alright. Let’s go. But, they have to be a total asshole. We can’t just eat a dick.” I said.

“And you think what I said was bad? Listen to yourself.” Venom retorted. I rolled my eyes.

“I heard it. I meant we have to eat someone who is really, really bad. Not just some random jerk.” I defended.

“I think what you really meant is the only dick you want to eat is Peters.” Venom snickered. I stopped in my tracks.

“VENOM!” I screamed. I could not believe the mouth on this girl.

“I’m only kidding. Let’s go. Your liver is starting to look really, really juicy.” Venom warned. With that, we climbed out the window and prowled the streets of New York.

It wasn’t long before we found a man harassing a woman. They were both tipsy, but she seemed drunker than he was. He kept putting his hands on her, despite her protests. Every time she tried to push him away, he’d only try harder.

“Come on baby.” He purred. She shoved him and stumbled along.

“Leave me alone. I don’t want you.” The woman slurred.

“Yes you do. You wouldn’t have worn that tight dress if you didn’t.” The man said. Ah yes, logic. He grabbed her butt and she smacked him. He angrily pushed her against a wall and covered her mouth.

“Asshole?” Venom asked.

“Asshole.” I confirmed. Venom and I did our usual tactic. I’d start off as me and kindly ask the gentleman to leave the lady alone. When all else fails, we become Venom and eat the bad guy. Venom and I weren’t cold blooded killers. If a problem could be solved with words, we would do it that way. But there are a lot of bad men on the streets who don’t take no for an answer. And we catch bad men.

We tore the man away from the lady. She ran away screaming when she saw us as Venom. Most people do. At least she was safe. The man on the other hand suddenly lost his tough guy stamina and resulted to begging for his life.

“Should we eat them honey?” Venom asked me, loud enough for the man to hear. We did that little thing we do when half our face is Venom and half our face is me. People get a real kick out of it.

“No. They probably taste like shit.” I answered. The man cowered away from us, begging us to leave.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” He pleaded.

“I never much liked the taste of perverts.” I said again.

“Me either. Plus, he’s so puny. He’s probably disgusting.” Venom agreed. We were dragging the man along. He was definitely getting eaten, no doubt about it. At least, there was no doubt, up until we heard the sound of feet landing on the pavement behind us.

“Hey, big guy, didn’t anyone ever tell you that people are friends, not food?” A young, muffled voice said from behind us. We turned around and saw a man dressed in a red and blue…suit? He had on a mask with pointed white eyes with black rims. To top it all off, he had a spider symbol on his chest. He looked ridiculous. And that’s coming from a seven foot goo monster from outer space.

We somewhat recognized him. Before I moved to San Francisco, there was talk about a so called “Spider-Man” roaming the streets of New York. As a real reporter, I didn’t pay attention to trifling and trivial news reports like men dressed in costumes who returned lost bikes. I focused on real stories. But the man standing in front of us was different than the Spider-Man I once knew. The old one wore baggier, softer clothes. Pajamas, almost. This guy had on a skintight body suit. It was like the old costume, but upgraded.

Spider-Mans eyes grew comically wide when we turned around.

“What are you?” He asked. We could hear the terror in his voice. Under his mask, he was probably trembling. He sounded so young and terrified. It filled our heart with joy. After all, this was our very favorite question.

“We…are venom.” We answered. Never gets old.

Spider-Man took a step back. His legs shook slightly. The man took this as an opportunity to get up and run. We quickly ran after him, but we were suddenly covered in a sticky white substance. It wrapped around our legs and we fell to the ground. Spider-Man ran up to us, wiping his hands on his suit. He was out of breath. From the floor, we could see the man getting away. Anger coursed through our body.

“I can’t take credit for that. I got that from this really old movie, The Empire Strikes back. It works every time.” Spider-Man huffed. We had enough of this. We easily broke out of the sticky stuff and grabbed the unsuspecting Spider-Man by the throat. We lifted him up by his neck and stared into his covered eyes. We could hear the sounds of him choking through his mask. Now, we weren’t a monster. But we weren’t a superhero either. This stupid kid had let an attempted rapist get away. We could only hope we scared him enough not to do it again. Spider-Man had managed to thoroughly piss us off. And now, he was gonna pay.

“You let him go.” We growled. Spider-Man hit the hand around his throat in an attempt to break free. We laughed. His feet were dangling off the ground. He was defenseless.

“You can’t eat people.” He choked out. He was still struggling to break free.

“We can and we will. Since you let our dinner get away, looks like you’ll have to take his place. I hope you taste better than you look, Spiderman.” We gave him our devilishly grin.

“Please don’t eat me. I’m just a kid.” Spider-Man begged. Venom tried to keep going, but I pulled back.

“Venom, put him down. We can find someone else. We can’t eat this guy. He’s too young.” I said calmly. I prayed Venom would listen. Spider-Man was right. He was just a kid. He had pissed us off, but that didn’t mean he had to die.

“I don’t want anyone else. I want him”. Venom answered. Spider-Man looked confused, seeing as he could only hear Venoms part of the conversation.

“Put him down. His suit probably tastes terrible anyway. Let’s go find someone else. How about we go find a smoker to eat? You know how much you love to eat smokers.” I argued.

“They taste like barbecue.” Venom replied. I could feel her mouth watering. Spider-Man was completely lost at this point.

“Let’s go. He’s not worth it.” I said.

“Fine.” Venom threw Spider-Man against a wall. Spider-Man began to cough and clutch his throat. Venom stormed over to him and grabbed his head, making him look at us.

“If you ever bother us again, we are going to eat both of your arms, then both of your legs, and then we are going to eat your face. Do you understand?” We asked.

“We?” was all Spider-Man could get out.

“We. Me and my girl. She saved your life tonight. Don’t except it to happen again. Next time, you’re dead.” Venom warned. With that, we ran away into the night, leaving Spider-Man behind.

After eating a man who we saw steal money out of multiple homeless mens cups, we climbed up my apartment building and sat on the ledge of the roof. The sun was starting to rise and Venom and I wanted to watch. I transformed back into myself and watched as the sun made its way up the horizon.

“What are you doing up here?” I heard a familiar Queens accent from behind me. I smiled immediately and turned around.

“Are you stalking me Parker?” I asked. A bashful smile broke across his face. He looked ethereal in the early morning sunshine. I bit my tongue to keep from giggling. He was too damn cute.

“You’ve got it the wrong way around. I lived here first. This had been my spot for years now. You’re the one stalking me.” Peter remarked. His voice sounded horse, like he had strained it. He moved slowly, almost as if he was in pain. He swung his legs over the ledge and took a seat next to me. Our thighs just barely touched, but enough to send sparks though my body.

“Is this really your spot? I’ll leave if you want.” I said. I didn’t want to impose. Peter put his hand on my shoulder to keep me from getting up.

“It’s our spot now.” He said matter of factly. The sun light up his profile. I could see how tired his eyes were. I wondered what late night adventures kept Peter Parker awake. Peter stared out into the New York City skyline and sighed with content. A gentle breeze blew his brown locks and ruffled our clothing. Everything was quiet. Everything was…good.

“Hey, are you an orphan?” I blurted. I’m not even kidding, I almost jumped off the roof right there. And I probably should’ve. No, actually, Peter should’ve pushed me off. It’s what I deserved. Who the HELL asks someone you just met that question? Who asks that question at all? Does anyone even use the term “orphan” anymore? Is this Annie? All these questions swarmed through my head as my cheeks managed to burn the brightest shade of red they ever had. Peter snapped his head to me and tried to say something but I cut him off.

“I only ask because…well I am. An orphan, I mean. And I saw the pictures in your apartment with the candle and you kinda have that…orphan look to you. No offense! It’s not a bad thing either. I probably have the same look. Plus, you live with your aunt and I didn’t see anyone else come home. Of course, maybe they just weren’t home the one night I was over. Not that it’s any of my business anyway. I’m sorry I asked. It was a dumb, dumb question and I’m a dumb, dumb person and I-“ My excessive rambling was cut off my a soft chuckles on Peters part. I looked at him confused. It wasn’t the response I expected.

“You’re not dumb. You took down Carlton Drake at 19 years old with no help. I wouldn’t call that person dumb. I’d call her brave, smart, even heroic. And all the best heroes are orphans. So to answer your question…there was a question in there somewhere right? I think so. Yes, I am an orphan. I live with my Aunt May. I used to live with my Uncle Ben too but he passed away.” Peter explained. I covered my face with my hands.

“Your uncle was Ben Parker. I should’ve known. May mentioned his name at dinner. I wrote an article on him when it happened since I was still living here. All my friends and I created a club in school to protest the lack of gun regulation in America after that. I’m so stupid. I should’ve known. I’m so sorry, Peter.” I said softly. Peter gave me a soft smile.

“I really appreciate you doing that. I’m really upset over the lack of gun regulation too.” He was quiet for a moment. “My Uncle Ben used to write too. He was always trying to get me to write for the school newspaper. It wasn’t my thing though. I prefer taking pictures and videos. You’re a really good writer, Y/N. My Uncle Ben would’ve loved you.” Peter said earnestly. My eyes almost filled with tears. I smiled at Peter and scooted closer to him.

“Thank you for saying that. I bet I would’ve loved him too.” I said. Peter looked down at his hands which were dangerously close to mine. I wasn’t bold enough to hold his hand, though I desperately wanted to. Instead, I put my head on his shoulder and looked out at the sunrise. It was a simple, innocent gesture. He and I were both awkward and knew it. It was the safest thing I could do without something going terribly wrong. Peter rested his head on top of mine and sighed. It was a happy sigh. We sat in comfortable silence for a while.

“I didn’t know you were an orphan.” He said softly, not wanting to disturb the peace. I nodded, still nestled in his neck.

“My mom died giving birth to me. She had a brain tumor and had to go off of chemo when she found out she was pregnant with me. Her body became too weak and they had to do an emergency C-section. I survived, but she didn’t.” I looked down at my hands and played with my fingernails. I felt a familiar lump on my throat.

“She never even got to hold me.” I choked. My dad told me that once. It made me sad every time I thought about it. My poor mother. I can’t even imagine. You carry a baby for nine months and don’t even get to hold her. And every worse, you die and never get to see her. Never get to name her, hug her, watch her grow.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Peter whispered. He gingerly laced his fingers with mine. I watched as he did it and didn’t try to stop him.

“It’s weird. I never knew her, but I miss her everyday. I wish we could’ve had a conversation. Just one would be enough. My sister used to tell me the most amazing stories about her. I felt so guilty for taking her away from my sister. I’ve felt guilty for 19 years.” I said. My mom wasn’t something I often talked about. It was too painful to relive the past. I hadn’t even told Andy the full story. But I felt safe with Peter. I felt like I could tell him my whole life story.

“You don’t have to have known her to miss her. I bet she misses you too and she never met you either.” Peter said. I smiled at his kind words.

“My parents died in a plane crash when I was nine. My Aunt May and Uncle Ben raised me ever since. They never told me the full story though, of the crash I mean. After everything that’s happened to May, I don’t think I can ever ask. I wish I knew though. I wish I could ask them myself.” Peter confessed. I appreciated him opening up to me more than words could say.

“What were their names?” I asked. Peter smiled proudly.

“Richard And Mary. Richard and Mary Parker.” He answered. I smiled against his chest.

“That was my sisters name.” I said.

“Was?” He asked.

“She died two years ago. She had the same brain tumor my mother had. It nearly killed me to lose her. She was my best friend. She still is. I call her sometimes when I need help and it always clears my head.” I confessed. I had never told anyone that before. Peter was drawing secrets out of me without even trying.

“I do that too. Well, kind of. I write my parents letters all the time. I put them in an envelope and everything. Then I put them in a box in my closet. I like to think the read them.” Peter said.

“I bet they do.” I replied.

I rubbed small circles into Peters hand with my thumb. He squeezed my hand gently. In that moment, I could’ve sworn he was mine. Like we were an actual couple that had been through hell and back together. Like I’d know him all my life. Peter looked me in the eyes and for the first time, I felt like someone really saw me. The real me. Not the orphan me, or the ex-fiancée me. Not even the venom me. He saw Y/N L/N, and he didn’t turn away. His brown eyes stared right down into my soul. I felt insecure suddenly. I knew my soul wasn’t a pretty place to see. Certainly not pretty enough for Peter Parker. But Peter didn’t seem to mind. I’m pretty sure he set up a camp in my heart right then and there. I got this feeling all the sudden. This feeling that told me Peter and I were meant to meet. That we were always meant to be in each other’s lives. To protect and love each other, like real people do. I swear I’ve always known him. We just met, but I’ve known him. And he’s known me. Peter didn’t feel like a stranger. He wasn’t someone I met on accident. He and I were destined to be. Just be. No matter what we were. This rooftop didn’t feel like a place I’d never been before. This rooftop felt like home. And Peter made it feel that way. Or maybe it wasn’t the rooftop that felt like home, it was just Peter. My cheeks burned up when I realized what was happening. My heart fluttered and my lungs felt like they were in fire. I knew it. Every fiber of my being knew it. All my senses came alive at once and in that moment, on that rooftop, my heart looked into Peters and said those two words.

Welcome home

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[carabas]

So I’ve just finished reading the Dragon Age Tevinter Nights anthology, and short reaction: enjoyably hit and miss right up until that final extremely thorough direct hit, thank you Patrick Weekes.

Much, much longer version:

1. I don’t know how reasonable it is to try to extrapolate about what’s going to be in the next game based on a random short story collection, but hey, the novels that came out before DAI were about the mage rebellion, the Orlesian civil war, and eluvians, so.

So things I’m now expecting to see in the next game, aside from the Tevinter-Qunari conflict and Solas of course: Nevarran necromancy, Antivan Crows, Wardens who are struggling with decimated numbers after DAO and DAI (would be the perfect time for Razikale and Lusacan to both wake up at once really), and the Lords of Fortune, a never-before-mentioned Rivaini treasure hunting organization which appeared in I think three different stories here. 

Plus a few stories were very much signalling This Specific New Character Will Be Showing Up Again, whether in the games or elsewhere; I'll be shocked if Lucanis the “Demon,” reluctant heir apparent of the Antivan Crows who just got into a cliffhanger conflict with a Tevinter magister, doesn’t have more to do.

2. THERE IS A MAP, there is a great big fantasy map surrounded by nifty little illustrative details to poke at.

There’s a label reading “White Spire,” not in Val Royeaux, but on a mountain beyond the Arlathan Forest. Is that an error or is there really a White Spire mountain? If not an error, has it always been named that or is that new, possibly a new center for the mages after the war, after the original Spire fell? At no point is either Spire mentioned in this book aside from this map.

Lots of astrological sun and moon patterns prominently featured around the edges. Is that one moon chart depicting moon phases or an eclipse? Is it too conspiracy theory of me to be counting the nine dark moons (or spheres? like in that DA4 idol illustration’s seven slots?) on the dragon’s wing? Probably. Or are those spheres a reference to the second moon that never seems to actually be visible, is that missing moon actually deliberate. 

Most of the astrological charts are fairly straightforwardly showing sun/moon phases but what is the crowned figure in the one on the lower right meant to represent? The Maker? What’s going on with the horizontal lines passing through it/behind it? The two moons beneath it - is that an illustration of the moon in two phases or being separated into two (metaphorical moon in that case, presumably), do those horizontal lines also indicate separation, do I need to move on from the astrological depictions here, definitely.

Love the big horseshoe crab sea monster.

3. Patrick Weekes’s first story in the collection: halla shapeshifting! An elf named Strife who I fully expected to be revealed as an agent of Fen’harel mimicking ancient elven names like Sorrow and Pride, though I was wrong - would it be charming or just annoyingly unsubtle if that became a thing among his agents. An ancient forest guardian with lyrium blades who hunts magic in a way that struck me an awful lot like a forest-themed equivalent of a golem, though I may be wildly off base with that one.

4. Nevarran necromancy story. An odd bit of the chant to highlight for a funeral: “And the Maker, clad in the majesty of the sky, set foot to earth, and at His touch all warring ceased.” I continue to squint suspiciously at overlaps between Maker and elven god imagery. Also, evidently mortalitasi believe that when someone dies, an inhuman spirit is pushed out from the Fade into the physical world, and that’s part of the reason behind their housing spirits in bodies - neat! The existence of Curiosity spirits, also neat!

5. Is Ghilan’nain’s horrible body horror place supposed to be spelled Hormak like in the title and previous canon references, or Hormok like throughout the text here? I know this was just a mistake but maybe I’ll use this to say that in-world there’s multiple ways of transliterating Dwarven.

6. Lukas Kristjanson story #1, the one featuring approximately a million minor Inquisition character cameos and a meditation on Solas’s regrets, introduces a character with the phrase “free mage by special commendation,” and I was briefly thrown by that little signal that we are Not In My Worldstate, that the mages aren’t all free by default - except then the story went on to destroy Solas’s fresco so I wound up quite grateful for that little heads up that this isn’t my worldstate actually.

(Unfortunately I can’t get into this guy’s writing style at all, which is a shame because it’s one of the big Solas stories in the book.)

7. There’s a little plot point in the Wigmaker Job story that demonstrates those elven artifacts Solas had us activate all over Thedas do indeed strengthen the Veil - like, he wasn’t lying to us about what those orbs do, that is how they work, here we see a Crow stab one in order to deactivate it, weaken the Veil and unleash a horde of vengeful demons. Nice confirmation.

8. Genitivi is the Randy Dowager. (Possibly. At least, Philliam wrote a scene in which Genitivi alludes to being the Randy Dowager. I do appreciate an unreliable narrator but after a certain point it does make the lore hard to keep straight.)

9. By the time we got to the story about adventurers stealing an incredibly powerful healing amulet just to donate it to a mysterious contact at a makeshift hospital trying to help people where the Qunari-Tevinter war has spilled over, I knew better than to expect any cameos from DAO/DA2 characters. And with the mention of the squire, I was pretty sure the mysterious contact was going to be Vaea, and it was. Still. Anders would approve. And for a moment I was fantasizing that it would turn out to be him, or connected to him. A new mental setting for him and Hawke post-mage-freedom - makeshift hospitals at the edge of the invasion, secretly sponsored by a certain pair of absurdly overpowered, dungeon-crawling, treasure-hunting fugitives.

Yes, my Dragon Age interpreting is still all about Anders even when he’s not remotely present.

10. You know, I really expected the leaders of the Crows to be a bit more ruthlessly competent than this. Someone is setting up a grand demonstration, recreating infamous historical assassinations carried out by the Crows but now with the leaders of the Crows themselves as the victims, incredibly flashy, incredibly clearly sending a message, and yet not one of the characters trying to figure out whodunit is speculating about the meaning behind that message??? the motive in going to all that trouble??? it’s all, hm, perhaps it’s the qunari invaders. hm, this one was posed with a pearl necklace just like the one in the historical murder it’s recreating, i bet the culprit owns a pearl-fishing business! I know they’re assassins not detectives but at least show the professional courtesy of paying attention to the message in the show your fellow assassin is putting on for you, geez.

Anyway. Interesting Crow details: they talked about neutral ground and territories divided between the Crow households here, does that just apply to Antiva or like, does Arainai have claim to all jobs in Ferelden? 

And the line “Teia's back was bare except for a tattoo marking her as a member of House Cantori” puts Zevran’s tattoos in a slightly different light for me - he’s mentioned that some symbols are sacred to the Crows, and logically it follows that having that symbol tattooed on him would indeed mark him as a Crow to other people in the know, but that his tattoos mark him as belonging to House Arainai is a thing that did not hit me from that.

11. An agent of Fen’harel muttering “Felassan” to activate a rune. In memoriam? Charming. I mean it’s a rune that’s intended to kill an entire city, so possibly the more literal slow arrow is meant, but I’m still charmed.

12. PATRICK WEEKES CLOSING OUT THE BOOK BY JUST DUMPING THE CONTINUING DREAD WOLF HUNT PLOT ON US. 

So much. 

An actual giant wolf in the Fade, I’m so happy for tumblr user corseque. 

A character again raising the possibility that Solas is not an ancient elf but rather a young elf who stumbled onto old magic, a theory I thought debunked by Trespasser but here we are considering it again. 

A minor side note that a lot of Kirkwall’s templars went rogue after the explosion - that’s not relevant to the post-DAI plot really, I’m just noting it for my generally-DA2-focused fanfic purposes. 

The possibility that somniari (presumably) can kill even dwarves who don’t dream in their sleep. Somniari in general or did Solas personally step in here?

A ritual involving the red lyrium idol resulting in the phrase “As if we were the blood and the cavern the body through which it flowed” right before the POV character enters the Fade, which is a rather Titan-esque turn of phrase. 

The Dread Wolf again asserting that all creation is in danger and he’s trying to fix that. A biased POV character recognizing that, huh, funny how those spirits around the Dread Wolf which surely must be demons actually look an awful lot like Justice and Valor. 

And Charter’s notes at the end, so direct, not only spelling out the new details on the idol for us (that the figure represents a crowned figure comforting another) but thoroughly hitting us over the head with Solas’s essential characterization in his own words, as if Weekes is still trying to clear up any possible lingering misinterpretations there. (Prideful, hotheaded, foolish. Doing what he must. Sympathetic to elves. Said that he was sorry.)

And the quiet simplicity of Solas coming to this meeting of spies in person because, pause, “...the Inquisition was involved,” written in such a way that you could read all sorts of things into that pause, whatever the Inquisition and the Inquisitor might mean to him.

The book would have been worth reading for this last story alone, what a note to end on.